


Catch me, I'm starting to fall

by sonicsora



Category: Brütal Legend
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Angst, Angst and Humor, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Drowned!Eddie, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gore, Resentment, Resurrection, Roleswap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-07 03:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11614965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonicsora/pseuds/sonicsora
Summary: Ophelia made a terrible mistake she can't take back. Ironheade discovers Eddie's true demonic heritage and reacts poorly. Eddie is kicked out of Ironheade and can't quite cope with his demonic roots or Lars' death.A single mistake spirals wildly out of control and neither can quite cope. AU. Drowned!Eddie.





	1. I can't even think

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote on a whim, based on my own drawing of Drowned Eddie. (http://sonicsora.tumblr.com/post/161810884882) Along with my own rough idea for this story- http://sonicsora.tumblr.com/post/161918619902 .
> 
> Basic gist: what if Ophelia and Eddie switched places narratively. Ophelia accidentally blurts out Eddie’s past, he’s shunned and he dunks himself in the sea.
> 
> I don't plan on rewriting the entire game mind you. This will veer wildly off course into whatever I want it to mostly.

Ophelia stumbled over herself, her mind swirling in a wild panic as she stepped out of the deuce. She barely knew how to drive but managed to get them to safety. “Lita- we have to-“ She was reeling still, the conversation from earlier looping on repeat in her mind. The look on Eddie’s face burned into her memory. Confusion, disgusted and hurt. Lita's explosion of emotion had only made the discussion worse.

“We don’t have to do anything.” Lita hissed angrily back, slamming the car door. She sauntered out, her halberd’s wooden bottom dragging in the snow. “He’s a demon! He tricked us! This entire time! If you hadn’t figured it out, who knows what he’d have done!” 

“He’s- he’s Eddie!” Ophelia turned to face the other woman finally, stalled out only briefly by how red Lita’s eyes were. “He’s helped us! He’s freed us from Lionwhyte!” 

“I know that he- _seduced_ you, but you can’t believe him. We can’t give him any more of our trust. Not after this disaster.” She scrubbed at her face in frustration. “I can’t believe we bought any of it. Now… this. Now Lars is…” 

Ophelia’s hands opened and closed at her side, hesitating before stepping forward, hugging the other woman. They had never been the friendliest, but Ophelia couldn’t just ignore how upset Lita was. Lita was stiff in her grasp before melting against her, desperate. 

“Kill Master is going to fix this.” Ophelia wanted to believe. Lita’s grasp just tightened on her, wanting to believe too. 

Both knew well enough, that wasn’t going to happen. Both wanted to stay in denial about this for just a little bit longer. 

Ophelia only loosened her hold after a moment, “Lets- we need to check on Lars.” They would talk about Eddie in a bit. Lita nodded stiffly, moving out of Ophelia’s embrace to stride forward to the sound of a bass playing. Ophelia followed in her wake, only glancing back once or twice uncertainly. 

Eddie would be fine on his own for a while. He had to. If anyone could survive without them, it was Eddie. Ophelia hoped if they found him soon, he could forgive her. 

He had to.

\---

“You think you know people, then- you realize you really don’t.” Eddie mused to himself with a tired laugh, he had lost track of where exactly he was now. It had stopped being cold awhile back. Now it was obnoxiously muggy. He was still trying to wrap his head around… all of this. Best he could do was walk, put some distance between himself and Ironheade until things cooled down. 

Ophelia knew for however long he was some… demon? She never bothered to tell him. “Fuck.” He pressed the butt of his palm against his forehead in frustration. “FUCK!” He kicked a rock in frustration, it skidded across the grass slamming into some kind of statue jutting out of the jungle’s greenery. 

“A guy thinks he’s in a heavy metal dream, but nooooo.” He waved a hand, tension rolling through him as he kept marching. If he had his guitar he would have just summoned his car back. At least then he’d be able to drive around. The one time he took the damn thing off and he was paying the price for it. Instead he was stuck on foot with just his axe. 

His _mother’s_ axe. The thought made him slow down, pulling the axe from his back to examine it. This was his family legacy. Was this why it felt so right in his hand? Why it belonged so comfortably to him? Was he like those freaky ass demons? Would he have turned on everyone eventually?

“Uuugh.” He slung it back onto his back, moving to just duck under a tree as thunder echoed in the distance. Before long the sky ripped open, rain starting to pour down over the landscape. Eddie stayed put, trying to stay vaguely dry. 

He could fix this. He just needed time to think. He camped out under the tree, huddling into himself to stay warm. It didn’t take long before his clothes were soaked through as the rain only got worse. Eddie buried his face in his knees, exhaling slowly. 

\---

“I can’t believe it, Eddie- a demon!?” 

“Disgusting!” 

“He tricked us!” 

“We should kick his ass!” 

“Did he plan to kill us this whole time?”

The din of confusion, frustration and fear ran through the camp as Lita stood tall on stage. She raised a hand motioning for quiet. “Whilst I don’t know what his intentions were for us, I ask we all stay on our toes. He doesn’t know where we are.” 

Ophelia scowled, moving to clamber up on stage, “We can’t just leave him out there!” She stood next to Lita trying to rally some kind of support. The sea of faces looked doubtful, but Ophelia couldn’t just take this. “He saved all of us! He’s our friend!” 

“He’s a demon!” 

“Demons are real tricky.” 

“Yeah!” 

“Lars died because of him!” One headbanger shouted, only riling the crowd further. Disapproving angry talk spreading, leaving Ophelia speechless for a moment. How could they just turn on Eddie like this? 

“He didn’t! That was- that was a freak accident!” She bit out, feeling frustrated. They had to know Eddie would never hurt Lars, much less want to kill him. 

“He was probably working with that creepy demon emperor!” 

“He seemed too genuine to be trying that.” Kill Master stated calmly, flicking his cigarette ash as he shared a look with Ophelia. Ophelia was relieved someone believed her. Mangus gave a slow nervous nod himself, not entirely convinced either. 

“Demons know how to play mind tricks. You’d know that if you got off your mountain sometime.” Snipped a Razor Girl. One of Kill Master men’s shrugged helplessly, “She’s got a point, boss.” 

Kill Master narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses, he stubbed out his cigarette on a amp. “I’ve been fighting demons far longer than most of you have been alive, trust me, he was genuine about caring for us.” 

“Genuinely a demon.” Someone else muttered amongst the crowd. Headbangers nodded in agreement, Razor Girl’s murmured amongst themselves, Roadies quietly shared looks between themselves, Bouncers nervously shifted in their spots and Thunder Hogs awkwardly looked at Kill Master. 

“He’s- he’s a good demon.” Ophelia argued firmly back, only earning a wave of disbelieving laughter from the group around her. 

“Like any demon can be _good_.”

“I know he tricked you, Ophelia, but you can’t believe him.” Lita stated simply, having gone silent observing the scene unfolding. She crossed her arms over her chest, stubbornly set in her thoughts. “We can’t believe him.” 

Ophelia stated cooly back, glancing at Lita. “He helped us! If he hadn’t helped us, we’d all still be enslaved right now!” From the corner of her eye she could see Kill Master nodding in agreement. Mangus offered a twitchy thumbs up.

“He helped for his own ends, who knows what that would be.” Lita waved a hand, dismissing Ophelia. “As I said, if any of you see him, don’t engage. He’ll try to trick you.” 

Ophelia groaned in frustration, hopping off the stage marching over to Kill Master. She ignored the pitying stares and disbelieving looks. She couldn’t believe this was happening right now. 

“C’mon, lass. We got work to do.” Kill Master motioned for Ophelia to follow him. She had no problem with that, she wanted to be as far away as humanly possible from the people she had thought were her friends. Mangus trailed behind them, “So, what’s the plan?” 

“We find Eddie, for one.” Ophelia stated firmly in turn, “Then, we show he didn’t do anything wrong.” It was her fault this started. 

\---

Once the rain lets up and he’s decidedly dry again, Eddie heads the way he came, walking across the bridge. He’d just talk this out with Lars, Ophelia and Lita. Things would be fine. It had to be some kind of weird misunderstanding. He wasn’t a demon. It was just… demon venom. Like Ophelia said before, demon venom from the temple. 

He had himself convinced of that much by the time he was fully cross the bridge. A good talk would clear this up. 

He’s decidedly relieved when he sees a headbanger running around. “Yo! Hey!” He waved to get the guy’s attention, “You doin’ okay?” The headbanger freezes in place, eyes darting around panicking. Eddie continued walking forward not sure what to think of that reaction. “Did you hear me, dude?” 

“Go away!” The headbanger looked spooked. “You- demon freak!” Eddie jerked back, shocked and stung. He placed a hand against his chest, hurt. “Hey- I’m not-“ 

“Demon!” He cups a hand around his mouth, shouting the word over again. That much is enough to draw a few more headbangers over. “He’s here!” “Oh shit, dude.” “Fuck!” 

“Hey, guys- calm down.” Eddie held up a placating hand, trying to calm the group down. He offered the group a smile. “I dunno what you heard, but, I ain’t a demon.” Even with what Ophelia said, he didn’t believe it. He wasn’t a demon, much less the emperor’s kid. 

“Don’t bullshit us, bro.” One of the braver headbangers bit out, stepping forward. “We’ve seen you change before!”

“Yeah, but that’s demon venom.” He answered confidently in turn, confident enough it made the headbangers exchange glances uncertainly. 

“That’s such bullshit.” The blonde one spit out, keeping himself between his friends and Eddie. “This is your only warning for old times sake. Get out of here. The next time any of us see you, you’re dead.” 

Eddie felt his stomach sink a little. “C’mon, man. I dunno what you heard, but you know me. I’ve always been here for you guys.”

“Do we though? Demons are tricky, they can’t be trusted. You’re probably just wearing some human skin to trick us.” 

“First that’s fuckin’ gross, second this is my skin.” Eddie didn’t get a chance to continue, the blonde headbanger shoved him away roughly sending the roadie stumbling back, falling onto the ground. “Fuck!” 

“Get the fuck away, demon!” The other headbanger surged forward to join their friend, overwhelming the roadie. Eddie swears as he managed to get to his feet taking more than a few hits as he got away. 

“Fuck! We’ll talk later when you’re calm.” He couldn’t just leave, but he couldn’t stay and let his friends beat on him. He hesitated just out of their reach.  
“Fuck off!” One picked up a rock, chucking it his way. Eddie made the decision to run as rocks were thrown in his wake. “You’re the reason Lars is dead!” Those words alone make Eddie trip and fall, a sitting duck for rocks. It only takes a few hitting him before he’s back up running across the stone bridge. 

In the safety of the jungle he slumps against a tree, trying to put together what the hell had happened. 

_Lars is dead_. 

He chokes on his breath, starting to shake. “Fuck- fuck!” Tears burn the corner of his eyes. He slams his fist into the tree, starting to cry. All Eddie can do is move, move forward. 

He falls more than once, but doesn’t stop as he disappears into the jungle.


	2. Things aren't the way they used to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ophelia manages to miss Eddie, Eddie realizes things kind of suck.

“Shit!” Ophelia kicked a rock angrily as she stared across the bridge. “Shit!” 

“Looks like we missed him by a couple hours.” Kill Master mused, eying the stone bridge before them. Word of Eddie’s appearance had traveled fast through Ironheade, but not quite fast enough for the trio searching for him. They had went in the opposite direction, half hoping he managed to get back to Bladehenge somehow. 

“We could probably catch him. We still got his car and your bike.” Mangus offered uncertainly. 

“Yeah, thats if he didn’t take off flying.” 

“We need to go now.” Ophelia stated simply back, she patted her pocket for car keys. The jangling was a comforting reminder she had it. “Mangus, stay here and if Eddie comes back talk him into staying. Say- anything to get him to stay put!” 

“Gotcha, boss.” He gave a slight salute in turn. Ophelia turned her attention back to Ironheade’s healer. “Kill Master, we’ll jump in the car and head out.” 

Whilst splitting up would help immensely, they didn’t have anyone else to have Kill Master’s back out there in the jungle. Ophelia didn’t want their healer to get killed by whatever lurked out there. She had never been this far out before, so all of it was definitely a mystery. 

She took off in the direction of camp, Kill Master hot on her heels. The pair kicked up snow in their wake as they ran towards the Druid Plow. She leapt into the drivers seat, yanking the keys from her pocket starting up the car. Kill Master plonked down into the passengers seat, managing to buckle himself in by the time Ophelia got the car moving forward.

Ophelia was focused on remembering how to drive, maneuvering her way out of camp, careful not to run over any idle Ironheade warrior over. Eddie had shown her a few times, but it was still a mystery in some part. 

\--- 

At some point he managed to find his way out of the jungle. Eddie wasn’t entirely sure where the hell he was beyond swamp. So, so, so much swamp. At this point he was knee deep in some truly wretched water slogging his way forward. His foot caught on a branch hidden in the water nearly sending the man toppling over fully into the water. He managed to regain his balance, steadying himself out. 

“Fuck me.” He sighed audibly, rubbing at his face. At this point his eyes were still puffy from crying. Eddie suspected if he looked in the water he’d be fairly red eyed. He at least had managed to slowly wind down a little from a crying jag. The few bruises blossoming across his arms from being head butted and cuts from rocks connecting were pressing enough to help keep him distracted. 

Eddie knew he needed to sit down somewhere and rest, he was starting to run out of energy. Actually getting some sleep would help him piece together the days events and maybe give him some time to formulate a plan. Emotions were running high for everyone, actual time passing could help. That much Eddie was willing to speculate on. 

He forced himself forward, realizing the longer he stood in the swamp the worse he was going to be soaked through. So much for being somewhat dry. 

He managed to find some dry land after more walking, dragging his wet ass forward to plonk down under a tree. He groaned a little just trying to relax. He glanced up, going stiff when he saw a noose hanging from overhead. 

“Oh.” 

He opened and closed his mouth. “What the fuck?” 

He was kind of regretting not asking what the fuck was on this side of the continent. “Creepy nooses, okay, I can… work with this? Things will be fine.” He pushed himself up, dragging his back along the tree bark, eyes stuck on the swaying rope. “Lets… just get away from here.” 

Eddie did not want to subtly suggest to the universe he wanted to be hung. He already jinxed his own self more than once. “Nope, nope, nooopeeeee.” He chants to himself, quickly lurching away to try and crash under another tree for some semblance of sleep. Only to find the next one was weirdly… spider shaped. He just stared at it for a long moment in confusion.

“Oh fuck off.” He groaned, “Emo shit, really!?” He was met by silence in turn. The landscape was decidedly dead as whoever previously used the noose. Eddie just moved to crawl under the weird spider shaped tree, figuring this was good enough for now. He curled into himself, trying to just relax even if his nerves were on edge. 

\---

Ophelia learned a valuable lesson from driving full blast into a jungle she had no real knowledge of- don’t. Don’t do that, no, do not. The jungle’s inhabitants do not appreciate it. Especially if one manages to crash into a giant cat like animal and injure it. 

The Druid plow bounced off another giant cat creature as a volley of spears rained down over Ophelia and Kill Master. At this point they had a very large group of Zaulia chasing after them. “Shit, shit-“ She fumbled to find the controls for the apparent weaponry Eddie hand on this thing as Kill Master snatched a spear chucking it back in the direction it came. “Your aim is terrible!” 

He swore as another five came at the car in response, clearly these half naked woman didn't take that well. Ophelia over corrected the steering sending the car sliding away from the group of angry women chasing them on beast back. So far the worst they had done was dent the front of the Druid plow and kill one beast by complete accident. 

“It can’t be that complicated!” 

“It’s looking pretty complicated, Kill Master.” She bit out, slamming down on the horn startling the women away from the car as she drove forward. “You find it!”

“I’m working on it.” He ducked down as more spears came at them, fumbling with the console. Clearly just as lost as Ophelia was around the varying controls. “How the fuck does he drive this thing?!”

Ophelia resisted her urge to shrug angrily back at the healer as she put as much force into stomping on the gas pedal as possible. The Druid Plow went hurtling forward off of a chunk of what used to be a temple, flying through the air. Spears and fire followed in its wake.

\---

By the time he woke up again, Eddie definitely knew he was famished and sore. He groaned a little, turning on his side and rubbing at his face. He could already tell his jeans were still soaked, caked with mud from the ground at this point. The sky was still a dark dingy gray. Eddie had to wonder if the weather would actually change at all. He slid out of under the tree, standing up now. 

He unbuckled his belt buckle, sliding out of his belt, half tempted to just yank off his jeans. “Fucks sake.” He swore, realizing he might be stuck walking around in his boxers if he didn’t dry off. 

He searched the landscape for something to actually hide under, relieved to see an out cropping of towering rocks clustered together. Not exactly a tent, but it would do. He slung his belt over his shoulder, walking towards the rocks. On closer inspection how the rocks were placed it made for a small alcove of safety. Almost a cave, sort of. 

He ducked under some of the rocks, glad for vague sense of privacy as he slid out of his jeans and sneakers. He threw his jeans over the rocks for now. He settled his axe down within reach before taking off his shirt. He wrung out the fabric, sighing at how wet it actually was at this point. 

“Too bad I don’t got my guitar. I could start a fire…” He draped his shirt across the rocks now, hoping air drying it would be enough. After his clothes dried off he could figure out food. He was not going to run around in his boxers, hell no. 

He carefully settled down on the dry dirt around the entrance of the alcove, leaning back against the rocks. He reached out to touch the handle of his axe, reassuring himself it was within grabbing distance. Given what happened the past couple hours, Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if he was attacked somehow. 

His gaze drifted from his surroundings back to his clothes, lingering on his shirt. 

_”You have her name on your shirt, Eddie!” Ophelia’s hand touched his chest, frustration written across her features. “Why would I joke about this?!”_

He winced a little, eying the design. “Succoria.” He murmured softly back, “All this time and…” Why did only she notice? Out of anyone here, it was Ophelia who just figured it out. 

“I had to date the smart one…” He laughed weakly. “…Are we even datin’ anymore? I mean… I killed Lars. If I had done somethin’ sooner, he would be alive now.” The guilt settled over him, making his chest ache. “No wonder they hate my fuckin’ guts. I’d hate me too.” 

Maybe, he did hate himself a little. If he had been faster, smarter- if he hadn’t been so focused on vengeance first, Lars would be alive still. If he made sure Lars stayed down. 

A million different what if’s ran through Eddie’s mind as he watched his shirt sway gently in the slight breeze.


	3. They could hear us louder if we scream

The grandest problem with just driving until one escapes is, doing this in a new location can cause some problems. Hitting a dead end in particular is the biggest problem. One Ophelia can’t quite correct fast enough as she yanks on the steering wheel attempting to turn. The best she can do is slam the side of the car against a pillar poking from the grass. 

The crash is enough to send her and Kill Master slamming into the dashboard of the Druid Plow. The seat belts proving to be vaguely helpful to keep them from launching bodily from their seats. Ophelia groans a little, already knowing she’s going to be sore later today, much less tomorrow. “Ow, ow- owww.” 

“I’ll fix this later.” Kill Master offers blearily, squinting at the world, his sunglasses gone thanks to the crash. He managed to keep his hat out of purse stubbornness. “Can you feel all your limbs?” 

“I think so.” Ophelia managed, moving her arms and legs to test it out. “Yes, I do.”

“Fingers and toes?”

Ophelia gave a weak thumbs up. 

“A good sign so far.” Kill Master shakily unbuckled his seat belt, popping open the car door to wobbly stand in the grass. Ophelia followed suit, grabbing Eddie’s guitar and sliding it onto her back. “So, on foot for now, I guess?”

“Unless you know how to fix his car.” Kill Master eyed the guitar neck poking from behind Ophelia’s shoulder. Her hand drifted to touch the neck, following his gaze. “I could figure it out.” 

The rustling of bushes and trees nearby, followed by shouting made the pair pause. “You better figure it out fast-“ Kill Master didn’t get a chance to finish as their pursuers burst through the foliage. Several women riding giant black cat creatures meant their ability to go anywhere was now severely limited.

“There! There they are!” The pair didn’t have time to do much beyond stumble back towards the car, only to find themselves surrounded. Kill Master held his hands up in surrender, Ophelia mimicking him knowing they didn’t have much of a choice now.

What Ophelia was assuming was the chieftain jumped down from her beast, striding forward. Her warriors joined her, circling the two Ironheade members. A sea of spears were held out at them, keeping the two in place.

“Why are you here?” Ophelia awkwardly leaned away from the spear being pointed at her by the half naked woman, stealing a glance at Kill Master who was looking equally as displeased. 

“We’re looking for a friend, he- came through this way.” She offered in turn, holding a hand up in a placating gesture. “Look, I’m sorry about… your pet? We didn’t mean to hit him.” The chieftain narrowed her eyes at that, “Intentions don’t take away what you’ve done. This is Zaulia territory. You’ve trespassed and caused us great harm this day. Our land is sacred, our Metal Beasts are sacred. You’ve taken the life of a mere kitten.”

“We’d be willing to work things out.” Ophelia was hopeful they could figure this out somehow. 

“You’re being put to death. When we find your friend, we’ll put them to death as well. You must pay for a life.” 

Ophelia opened and closed her mouth. “Ah.” Kill Master was just as eloquent. “Well, shit.” 

“Take them away.” Rima bit out firmly. With her words her warriors jumped in, grabbing both Ophelia and Kill Master by the arms, dragging them forward towards a looming temple. 

“We could have worked on this plan a little more.” Ophelia amended to Kill Master. Kill Master squinted back at her tiredly. “No shit, love.” 

\--- 

It had taken some trial and error, but he finally had a fire started. The heat was a relief after tromping around through a swamp for who knows how long. Eddie relaxed back against the rocks for now, focused on the skyline overhead as he soaked in the heat. “Now I gotta do the whole food thing.” He mused aloud idly, gaze dropping back to the landscape. 

The biggest issue was the fact nothing seemed to be around. _At all_. It was a little weird. Eddie sighed, rising to his feet, grabbing his axe. He moved to investigate the tall grass, hoping he could find something edible here. He crouched, looking over what he was guessing were animal tracks. It was a little hard to tell given how the ground drastically shifted from wet and dry at a moments notice thanks to the weird weather. 

He stuck to being quiet, slowly rising back up to his full height, creeping forward, axe steady in his hand. He kept his breath steady as he tracked the prints. He could hear whatever it was rustling in the grass now. He swung his axe outward, yelling as he leapt forward. 

What Eddie did not expect to come face to face with was a demon. A Soul Kisser startled back from him. Eddie took a step back, raised hand faltering slightly. “Uh, whoops.” 

The Soul Kisser charged forward, attempting to attack him. Her voice muffled from her mask as she called for help. Eddie could hear shouts from other demons within hearing range. A lot of other demons from the sounds of it. All of them funneling this way. 

Eddie palm faced at his luck, trying to knock the Soul Kisser back. “God damn it!” 

“Foolish child! Prepare yourself!” A Nun shouted down at him, swinging her hand at him, just barely grazing the top of his head. He erked in surprise, ducking out of the way. “I’m prepared for you fucks to die!” More demons were appearing from the bushes now. He was going to be swarmed at this rate. Two Nuns and full party was present. Four Soul Kissers, two Punishing Parties and Eddie was fairly sure he could hear a WarFather nearby. 

Okay, not his best threat, but he was done with today. Officially, completely, done. “Fuck this.” He kept swinging his axe, losing himself in the familiarity of bloody carnage. Blood speckled his clothes and face as he continued trying to cut his way through the crowd. He wasn’t without return injury, a claw or blade cut into his skin in turn. What cuts and bruises from earlier were exacerbated further from the demonic attack. A claw dug into his arm, dragging down the length of his bare arm, stopping at his wrist band. Stopped permanently when he helped its owner from doing any worse by lopping it off. Though that didn’t stop the bombardment. Another claw dug into his leg, digging into flesh on the back of his knee. 

A Soul Kisser’s blade cut into his side, through the fabric of his vest and shirt. Eddie didn’t have time to get away to keep it from gliding across his torso, digging into his flesh and hitting bone. He managed to cut into the owner with his axe, kicking her back sending the limp body flying into the group of demons. It gave him enough room to do a solo- he reached to his back quickly realizing he did not have his guitar. “Right.” He quickly shielded himself as the demons regained their footing, surging at him once again. 

“Fuck.” Blood colored his lips as he staggered back, the demons were still pushing forward. The one living nun was screeching at the top of her lungs calling more attention to the situation. Eddie had no idea how many demons were here, he did not want to find out. He blocked another attack, willing himself to change to his other form. Normally it was a little uncomfortable, now- now it was straight up painful from his injuries. 

His shift did enough to confuse the demons, staggering their onslaught as he unfurled his wigs. “See you later, losers.” He bit out, taking off into the air. The calls after him oddly weren’t threatening, just confused. Eddie was trying to ignore the one call of ‘Succoria!’ that followed after him. He did not need this right now. No, no, nooooope. 

His wings beat at the air, the man flying blind into the sky trying to hold his arms around his stomach protectively. Eddie was fairly sure he was going to be down a few organs if he didn’t get this figured out. He focused on flying, far, far, far away from the demons. Flying was a big enough task his mind focused on that as he started to shake. He could taste blood so clearly now he was gagging on it. 

He fumbled with his hold, feeling his gut tear further. “FUCK!” He swore and gurgled in equal parts, losing focus on flying entirely. The half demon dropped out of the sky, crashing into the ground hard, rolling down hill. He left a trail of blood in his wake as he rolled. Eddie kept his arms wrapped around himself, unable to stop his momentum. At some point he lost track of anything but his own grip and breathing. His rolling slowed to a stop. 

By the time he became more aware of his surroundings he realized he was near some- black water. Not that he cared in the moment. He let his head lull against the black sand, breathing shallowly. “I need a beer.” 

“It’s only fair… I mean, blood for blood, yeah?” He laughed weakly to himself. “If I… listened to Lita, Lars woulda been fine. He’d still be alive.” The weight of that settled heavily over his shoulders now. “This is… fuck. Lars can’t be dead.” He had seen Lars get attacked, but Kill Master had to have gotten him back.

He gagged a little, struggling to hold onto his gut. His hands were so slippery now. “He can’t. He was- he’s the leader. What are they gonna do without him? What is Lita gonna do…? What is Ophelia gonna do?” 

Ophelia probably hated his guts as much as Lita did at this point. Eddie could remember the utter disgust on Lita’s face when Ophelia shouted at him.

_”You’re a demon!” She threw her hands in the air in frustration, lips pulled into a scowl. “Eddie, why would I even-? Just listen to me. Please!”_

_“Fuck no, do I look like a demon?” He threw back insulted. “That was just demon venom-“_

_“I made it up!” Her admittance knocked the wind out of him. “I made it up, so I could keep you safe. If they knew, they would all turn on you.”_

_“…Ophs.”_

_“I’m sorry, I knew, I knew you weren’t just human, Eddie. I could tell, but I know you’re good.” She reached out for him, hand careful against his cheek. He withdrew, stung by her words. “No- no fuckin’ way! Fuck off.”_

_“Eddie, please. I’m telling you the truth. Your mother was a demon.”_

_“That’s enough.” Lita cut in, stepping between the couple. Ophelia’s expression communicated she had forgotten of Lita’s presence entirely. The color draining from Ophelia’s features, too stunned to say anything. “If what she says is true, you are not welcome with us any longer.”_

_“C’mon, Lita, it… can’t be true.” He laughed nervously, looking at Ophelia for help._

_“Ophelia has faced more demons than the rest of us. She knows these things.” Lita stated cooly back, the complete disgust on her face just making his stomach drop. “You need to leave, Edward.”_

_“I’m not leavin’!” He protested, taking an uncertain step back. All the news was making it hard for him to really think._

_“You are.” Lita pointed the halberd at him. “I will kill you if I ever see you again. Lars will agree with me.”_

Eddie laughed wetly, realizing he was crying again. Ophelia had been right. She had been right. He dragged himself forward with one arm, dipping his hand in the water to get a drink. He managed to clumsily dunk himself in the water as he lost his balance on the edge of the bank. 

“Fuck!” He struggled against the water, losing more and more energy as he went. He attempted to grab the edge of the bank, losing his grasp from his wet slippery fingers. It almost felt like something was pulling him down. Not that he dwelled on it much longer, he simply sunk into the murky depths.


	4. My mind's a little hazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Befriending a new ally and an awakening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy Ophelia getting main character status, pfft. Though she ends up working for her shit unlike SOME PEOPLE, gosh, Eddie.
> 
> ALSO PLZ- look at this rad fucking fanart my friend Kitty drew- https://ichosepoorly.tumblr.com/post/164469429000/felt-the-urge-to-be-br%C3%BCtal-today-so-i-took-a 
> 
> im still screaming over it.

Ophelia staggered back with a curse, fingers fumbling with her blade handle in attempt to bat away the fire. “That isn’t really helping, love!” Kill Master called out, not so quiet desperation creeping into his voice as he pressed his back against the monument behind them. 

“I know!” She shouted back, lips thinning out as she swung again sending a chunk of burning plant life flying through the air, out of their prison. From the surprised shouts below she could tell she nearly struck someone in the crowd of half naked women. “Do you have any bright ideas?!?” 

“Start praying to Ormagoden?” 

“Not helpful!” She tucked her blades back into their holsters, moving away from the fire around the monument. “Okay- okay- I need an idea…“ She blinked at the sight of the red flowers. The familiarity of the flowers made the brunette freeze where she was standing. 

“Oh!” 

“If you got burned, you’re gonna have to suck it up, cause it’s getting worse!” 

“No- I, just watch.” She grabbed the guitar from her back, shifting it around. She sort of remembered watching Eddie do this a few times. She could do this. 

Ophelia took a slow breath, playing the chords. Even with the one discordant note, she was able to raise the monument, dousing the fire in the process. The platform lowered, Kill Master and Ophelia did not hesitate to jump off it, stumbling onto the grass in front of the crowd of warrior women. The women were awed, staring at the display in shock. Ophelia stumbled onto her feet, offering a hand to Kill Master. He took it begrudgingly as he needed help balancing. Somehow he managed to keep his hat on. 

The leader made eye contact with Ophelia, gesturing widely as she spoke. “You- know the secrets of the titans?” 

Ophelia shared a look with Kill Master before hurriedly speaking. “Yes! We’ve learned how to read their writings from the Son of Riggnarok!” She pointed at the pictures that had emerged from the monument. Kill Master managed to restrain himself from giving Ophelia a baffled look. 

“The son of Riggnarok?”

“Yes! My- mate.” If this was their opening, Ophelia was going to make it stick. The word boyfriend wasn’t going to work here. Kill Master’s eyebrows did arch up at that, half tempted to ask. “My beloved, my husband-“ Now she was stretching it, but she was going to make this work. 

“Your mate.” The leader murmured softly to herself. “I see.” She clasped her hands together. “You know his history, yes?” 

“Yes, my parents worked closely with him… before the sea.” This was shakier ground, but Ophelia needed to make some footing herself with these women. Find a common ground, a common history. The images alone gave her something to work with. “I ran away when they drank from the sea. I refused to be a part of it.” 

The leader nodded slowly mulling over Ophelia’s words. “Even without your connection, your skills are admirable. You know much of the Titans. You’ve survived the temptation of the sea. Only one man has resisted the sea’s call, Riggnarok. What is your name?” 

“Ophelia.” 

“Ophelia, I am Rima, chieftain of the Zaulia.” 

“Rima, I’m- sorry, so sorry about your beast. Truly. We had a mission to find my mate and let it get ahead of us. We acted impulsively and foolishly..” She stepped forward, settling a hand against her heart. “If you want to punish me, please, do. My friend is a healer and needed back home. He needs to help our friends.” Kill Master blinked at that starting to protest but was silenced by Ophelia’s backward glance and motion for quiet. “Please.” 

Rima seemed shocked by the other woman’s words. Most rarely asked for punishment, much less tried to shield an ally like this. Her lips tugged into a frown after a moment, her expression shifting to something thoughtful. “You truly mean this. I can see it in your eyes.” She raised a hand in the air, speaking to her subjects. “Bring me my spear.” 

Kill Master covered his face with his hands, managing to barely restrain a groan. Ophelia glanced uncertainly around wondering if she was going to have to fight for her life here. Another woman approached with the spear, handing it to her chief. Rima nodded her appreciation turning to face Ophelia. She raised her spear upwards slightly as she spoke.

“Whilst you have caused my people great distress over the loss of a life, you have granted us our monument once again. As have you given us the knowledge of what happened to our greatest ally, Riggnarok.” Ophelia held still as the spear was settled against her shoulder. “You resisted the call of the sea, its song runs deep in all of us, yet you’ve avoided it.” 

“For this, you have been forgiven.” Rima tapped the spear carefully against Ophelia’s shoulder. 

Ophelia released the breath she hadn’t known she had been holding in as the spear was pulled away. “We will grant you passage of our jungles and aid as you need it. An ally of Riggnarok, even his son is an ally of our own.” 

“Thank you.” The moment was only disrupted by the crackling of the walkie talkie kicking to life from the car. 

“Ophelia? Kill Master? Where are you guys?!” Mangus’ panicky voice was static-y if not muffled from being stuffed in the glove compartment but understandable. Ophelia held up her index finger to the Zaulia, “Uh, give me a second.” She darted towards the car plucking the walkie talkie from it’s hiding place. Ophelia brought the walkie talkie up to her mouth, pressing down on the button to reply to the man. 

“Mangus? What’s going on?” The man could be a bit easy to scare but this sounded fairly serious. Serious enough Ophelia knew she had to find out what was happening.

“Demons!” 

Her breath caught in the back of her throat as her grip tightened around the walkie talkie. “Wait wait- demons? Where?” 

“HERE! IN CAMP! Get your butts back here! They’re gonna be on us real fast.” Ophelia could distantly hear shouting from people in camp, the panic in the voices audible even if their words were distorted. 

“Right- we’ll be there soon. With reinforcements.” She dropped the radio onto the passengers side seat, turning back to the Zaulia and Kill Master. “So, do you think you would be up for a fight against demons?” 

Rima paused, a slow smirk settling on her lips. “Nothing would make me happier.” The chief turned to face her people, “Bring the beasts! We are to battle this day!” There was some cheering from the other women in the crowd. “We are to claim demon hides as our own this day!” Cheering and chanting filled the air as Rima barked out orders. 

Ophelia swallowed thickly, sharing another glance with Kill Master. Eddie was going to have to wait, just for a bit longer. They needed to save Ironheade. Eddie could take care of himself, even without his car or guitar. Kill Master gently placed a hand against her shoulder able to read her expression, “We’ll find him. Don’t worry.” 

Ophelia gave him a thin lipped smile, “Yeah, we will. I’ll still worry though.” 

“Knowing him, he’s probably befriended everyone out there. So he’s gonna be fine.” Ophelia had to laugh a little at that, “I hope so.” Only distracted by Rima returning on a beast. “Ride with me, warrior.” 

Ophelia nods, “It would be my honor to ride with you.” 

It doesn’t long for Rima’s troops to rally at her call. Ophelia finds herself atop one of the beasts with Rima herself. Kill Master ends up on another beast with a mute Zaulia, awkwardly holding onto fur with one hand and his hat with another. Woman astride beasts emerge from the jungle in force heading towards the icy enclave where Ironheade’s camp is. Fire melts the slick hard to walk upon ice. 

——

The pain is what he feels first. A flood of pain and anguish roll through him. Eddie chokes on water and air as he digs his hands into his chest. The pain hammers against his ribs, thrumming like an engine burning up. He thrashes in the water, screaming soundlessly. 

He digs his fingers and nails into flesh, past bone, cracking it open finding the pain. He needs to stop it, do anything he can to make it cease. A heart beats in his hand, thunderously loud when freed. It radiates pain, so much pain. 

He drops it, the beating heart disappearing into the depths of the water. The farther it gets, the less it _hurts_. The less he hurts, the more he can sleep. 

He needs to sleep. Eddie does not dream. 

He simply does not exist for a long time. 

Until one day, he simply does. His eyes snap open and he struggles upwards swimming towards the surface. When he breaks through he lurches forward, hand reaching to his gut- only to find nothing there. Instead of panic or fear, Eddie simply touches his spine idly. His emotions are oddly numb in the moment. He can’t quite understand why. 

“Cool.” He murmurs lowly to himself. “Cool.” He glances back at the dark waters, pausing at his reflection glittering back at him. Eddie stared at himself uncertainly. 

"I look like... I came off an album cover." A smile curled across lips.


	5. Better not say a word, but

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carry that weight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cups hands around mouth* LITA'S GAY!! *drops hands in lap* 
> 
> Also I hope that creepy text worked out in the fic here.

“Ophelia, who _are_ these people?” Lita whispers more loudly than intended, earning an amused look from a few Zaulia within earshot. Ophelia shrugs a little awkwardly not sure where to start. Admitting her assumption of who Eddie’s dad was out loud here was… tricky. “Friends.” 

“Friends? How? Who-?” 

“Just trust me, friends.”

“Last time I did that you brought back a demon.” This time Lita did manage a proper whisper. Ophelia sighed, “They battled alongside Riggnarok. They’re warriors, Lita. We need warriors. They’re the Zaulia.” 

The blonde finally glances back at the group, still decidedly suspicious. Several Zaulia had gathered around a camp fire attempting to stay warm with Ironheade’s soliders building it up further to help. Being half naked in the snow wasn’t the best idea. Other Zaulia were buried in the fur of their beasts staying warm the best they could in the snowy landscape. “How do you know we can trust them?” 

“We need to take a chance here, Lita. They kind of swooped in and saved us from demons earlier, so I think that is worthy of some trust.”

The blonde scowled somewhat, “True enough.” Her wariness hadn’t wholly lessened but it was a good first step. “We’re compromised here at this camp now- we need to move.” 

“The Zaulia know the landscape, so we can get some help from them.” Not to mention Ophelia could run off with one or two of them to look for Eddie. “We can’t take Bladehenge back until we’re back at full strength.” The loss of Lars and Eddie in short succession had taken its toll on morale to say the least. The fight with Lionwhyte’s forces had already done a fair job of depleting their numbers in some regard. Ophelia wasn’t exactly surprised by the slump in Ironheade. They needed time to recover before any of them could do anything concrete. 

Lita isn’t terrible thrilled with that plan, but nods slowly. She knows well enough gratitude is in order given how the Zaulia helped them. “Their knowledge will be invaluable, but I will be keeping an eye on them.” 

“Lets at least introduce you two before you start threatening her.” Ophelia placed her hands against Lita’s back, pushing the blonde forward in Rima’s direction. Lita moved out of Ophelia’s grasp, offering the brunette a sharp frown of warning before stomping away. 

Ophelia rolled her eyes at the behavior, not all that surprised. She trailed behind Lita, only stepping forward to make an actual introduction. “Rima, this is the leader of Ironheade, Lita Halford.” 

“I see.” Rima stood up a little straighter, turning to fully face the blonde woman. “Are you the queen of these people?” 

The question stalled Lita for a moment, “I suppose I am.” 

Rima’s lips quirked into a smile, “It is a pleasure to meet a fellow queen.” She reached out to take Lita’s hand in her own, pressing a kiss against Lita’s knuckles. The blonde blinked slowly, turning red at the attention. 

“I-“ She opened and closed her mouth awkwardly. The kiss left Lita wordless for now. Ophelia glanced between the two women in surprise. She had expected some kind of fight, not... this. “No, it's- my pleasure. Truly. Welcome to Ironheade.” 

\---

He watched the edges of the water ripple, it had yet to settle. Not completely. Not again. The sea would not be dormant again, not with his command of it. The sea would not rest until each shore was stained black. Eddie brushed his fingers through his hair, licking his lips thoughtlessly. 

Even now his lips tasted like copper. Would he ever taste anything else again? 

It didn’t really matter anymore, did it? What did matter? Eddie had to wonder why he thought this was some paradise. He acted like he was the _hero_ , the hero Ormagoden brought to finish unleft work. He believed it so much then. 

He wanted to still believe it now. Some part of him wanted to be the hero. Some part of him wanted to help them. Ironheade had been his people. His _friends_. At least he had thought they were his friends, but they had turned on him so quickly. Real friends didn't leave you in the lurch when things became dire. 

Real friends didn't throw rocks at you or call you a freak. 

If they wanted a freak, he'd give them one. He'd make them regret turning on him. He'd make all of them regret doing this. 

He intended to make them regret all of this. Make Ironheade regret what they had done. He would make Ophelia regret all of this especially. She barely knew him, why did he think she _loved_ him? She had been with Lars before hadn't she? She just... dropped him on a whim because of a kiss. She couldn't really love him. She probably never did. 

What an idiot he had been back then. Eddie knew he was crying, but it didn't matter anymore. He couldn't stop crying now and it wasn't like he'd dehydrate from it. 

Eddie stepped forward, sending more ripples through the waters. He drifted across the surface, sinking into the water as he went. He could feel the water soaking into his jeans, lapping over the edge splashing against the exposed bones of his body. The whispers from below sent a comforting chill through his bones, rippling upwards across his spine. A woman's voice was gentle in his ear, weak and mournful. 

 

w̱̱̘̙͔̓̈́̊́̅̉̌̋̚a̴̢͉͖͔̠͈͚̹̖̩͌̉͑̔͂͛ķ̸̨̫͚̞̱͕̥̘́̋̈́̃̍e̶̡̜̞̩̝̾̑̅̓͛͐́̕͡ͅt̨̹̼̮̯͖̦͖̭̺̐̎̉̿͂͡ḥ̵̛͚̬͓̖̭̪̓̊̎͊́̏͆̄͜e̷̬̰̰̦͙̗̮̦̎̅͋͞͞m̨̼͖̰͓̀̓͂͑̌̾͛͡u̴̬̪̯̩͕̗͈̦̅͆̎͂̆͘p̴̧̩͙͓̦̟͍͙̑̂́̍̇͆̏͢͟w̨̩͇̘̳͇̘̺̽͂̎͂̓̚͜â̤͖͉̤̟̝͚̬̝͉̈̿̂̾̓͘͡k͍̣̹̰̘͆͛̅̓͆̉́̕ę̸̮̥̮̜̞̘͗̽̔̍̆͑̓̅͒͌͜ͅt̶̗͕̳̺͙̙̘̪͆͂̂͗̅̒͊̌͢͝͝h̶͔̳͚̙̖̳̄̈͆̌͝ë̸͙̩̯̳͙̮̫́̀͛͆́́͋͌̕͞m̵̢̛̖̰̮̻̗͓̖̍͊̌̇͐̂̌́͜ͅu̴̡͍̞͚͖͇͓̩̅̔̆̂̉̓͗͡͠p̭̩͚̫̝͙̺͔͊͛̔̽̀̋w͖̬͍̹̹̐͛͂͑̾̉̀ä͔͉͙̹̟̾̊̾̉͂͗ͅķ̛̳̼͈̰̒́̂e̴̬͙͎͙͔̬̠̼͍̓̄͐̏̽͢ṱ̬͇̳̥͇̋́̅̂̿͛̑͂͞͠h̷̻̭͕̜̹͎̽̓͒̊̔̏̈͝e̵̢̻̼͎̰̽̓̾̆̓̇͢͠m̡̧̛̯͍̲̎͆̐̚͟u̸̡̻̥̝̫͎̥̒͋̕͢͠p̴̧̡̛͖͖͎͉͉̭͖͛̇͐̓͐͆̑͜ẇ̴̧̢̛͈̯͉̩̜͊͊̆̅̊̎̆̈́͜ͅa̶̧͕̬̗̪̦͙͔̼͊̍́̓͘͞ķ̛̻̯̖̪̙̖͎́͊̿̔͋̕͡è̵̛̯̠̰̤̤̣̰̻̍̏́̑͠t̷̡̛̬̺́͂͋͘͜͜͡ͅh͔̘͇̫̩̟̱̊̇̅̀́̿͐̇ē̦̞̦͓̪̅̏́͢m̦͍̮̪̳̣̖͑̄͑͋̀́͂͘ͅ u̺͕̩̝̼͙͚̝̍͋͑͌̏̈́̍͝ͅp̛̤͓͙̝͎̒͊͐̊͠  
w̱̱̘̙͔̓̈́̊́̅̉̌̋̚a̴̢͉͖͔̠͈͚̹̖̩͌̉͑̔͂͛ķ̸̨̫͚̞̱͕̥̘́̋̈́̃̍e̶̡̜̞̩̝̾̑̅̓͛͐́̕͡ͅt̨̹̼̮̯͖̦͖̭̺̐̎̉̿͂͡ḥ̵̛͚̬͓̖̭̪̓̊̎͊́̏͆̄͜e̷̬̰̰̦͙̗̮̦̎̅͋͞͞m̨̼͖̰͓̀̓͂͑̌̾͛͡u̴̬̪̯̩͕̗͈̦̅͆̎͂̆͘p̴̧̩͙͓̦̟͍͙̑̂́̍̇͆̏͢͟w̨̩͇̘̳͇̘̺̽͂̎͂̓̚͜â̤͖͉̤̟̝͚̬̝͉̈̿̂̾̓͘͡k͍̣̹̰̘͆͛̅̓͆̉́̕ę̸̮̥̮̜̞̘͗̽̔̍̆͑̓̅͒͌͜ͅt̶̗͕̳̺͙̙̘̪͆͂̂͗̅̒͊̌͢͝͝h̶͔̳͚̙̖̳̄̈͆̌͝ë̸͙̩̯̳͙̮̫́̀͛͆́́͋͌̕͞m̵̢̛̖̰̮̻̗͓̖̍͊̌̇͐̂̌́͜ͅu̴̡͍̞͚͖͇͓̩̅̔̆̂̉̓͗͡͠p̭̩͚̫̝͙̺͔͊͛̔̽̀̋w͖̬͍̹̹̐͛͂͑̾̉̀ä͔͉͙̹̟̾̊̾̉͂͗ͅķ̛̳̼͈̰̒́̂e̴̬͙͎͙͔̬̠̼͍̓̄͐̏̽͢ṱ̬͇̳̥͇̋́̅̂̿͛̑͂͞͠h̷̻̭͕̜̹͎̽̓͒̊̔̏̈͝e̵̢̻̼͎̰̽̓̾̆̓̇͢͠m̡̧̛̯͍̲̎͆̐̚͟u̸̡̻̥̝̫͎̥̒͋̕͢͠p̴̧̡̛͖͖͎͉͉̭͖͛̇͐̓͐͆̑͜ẇ̴̧̢̛͈̯͉̩̜͊͊̆̅̊̎̆̈́͜ͅa̶̧͕̬̗̪̦͙͔̼͊̍́̓͘͞ķ̛̻̯̖̪̙̖͎́͊̿̔͋̕͡è̵̛̯̠̰̤̤̣̰̻̍̏́̑͠t̷̡̛̬̺́͂͋͘͜͜͡ͅh͔̘͇̫̩̟̱̊̇̅̀́̿͐̇ē̦̞̦͓̪̅̏́͢m̦͍̮̪̳̣̖͑̄͑͋̀́͂͘ͅ u̺͕̩̝̼͙͚̝̍͋͑͌̏̈́̍͝ͅp̛̤͓͙̝͎̒͊͐̊͠w̱̱̘̙͔̓̈́̊́̅̉̌̋̚a̴̢͉͖͔̠͈͚̹̖̩͌̉͑̔͂͛ķ̸̨̫͚̞̱͕̥̘́̋̈́̃̍e̶̡̜̞̩̝̾̑̅̓͛͐́̕͡ͅt̨̹̼̮̯͖̦͖̭̺̐̎̉̿͂͡ḥ̵̛͚̬͓̖̭̪̓̊̎͊́̏͆̄͜e̷̬̰̰̦͙̗̮̦̎̅͋͞͞m̨̼͖̰͓̀̓͂͑̌̾͛͡u̴̬̪̯̩͕̗͈̦̅͆̎͂̆͘p̴̧̩͙͓̦̟͍͙̑̂́̍̇͆̏͢͟w̨̩͇̘̳͇̘̺̽͂̎͂̓̚͜â̤͖͉̤̟̝͚̬̝͉̈̿̂̾̓͘͡k͍̣̹̰̘͆͛̅̓͆̉́̕ę̸̮̥̮̜̞̘͗̽̔̍̆͑̓̅͒͌͜ͅt̶̗͕̳̺͙̙̘̪͆͂̂͗̅̒͊̌͢͝͝h̶͔̳͚̙̖̳̄̈͆̌͝ë̸͙̩̯̳͙̮̫́̀͛͆́́͋͌̕͞m̵̢̛̖̰̮̻̗͓̖̍͊̌̇͐̂̌́͜ͅu̴̡͍̞͚͖͇͓̩̅̔̆̂̉̓͗͡͠p̭̩͚̫̝͙̺͔͊͛̔̽̀̋w͖̬͍̹̹̐͛͂͑̾̉̀ä͔͉͙̹̟̾̊̾̉͂͗ͅķ̛̳̼͈̰̒́̂e̴̬͙͎͙͔̬̠̼͍̓̄͐̏̽͢ṱ̬͇̳̥͇̋́̅̂̿͛̑͂͞͠h̷̻̭͕̜̹͎̽̓͒̊̔̏̈͝e̵̢̻̼͎̰̽̓̾̆̓̇͢͠m̡̧̛̯͍̲̎͆̐̚͟u̸̡̻̥̝̫͎̥̒͋̕͢͠p̴̧̡̛͖͖͎͉͉̭͖͛̇͐̓͐͆̑͜ẇ̴̧̢̛͈̯͉̩̜͊͊̆̅̊̎̆̈́͜ͅa̶̧͕̬̗̪̦͙͔̼͊̍́̓͘͞ķ̛̻̯̖̪̙̖͎́͊̿̔͋̕͡è̵̛̯̠̰̤̤̣̰̻̍̏́̑͠t̷̡̛̬̺́͂͋͘͜͜͡ͅh͔̘͇̫̩̟̱̊̇̅̀́̿͐̇ē̦̞̦͓̪̅̏́͢m̦͍̮̪̳̣̖͑̄͑͋̀́͂͘ͅ u̺͕̩̝̼͙͚̝̍͋͑͌̏̈́̍͝ͅp̛̤͓͙̝͎̒͊͐̊͠

Ẅ̴̭̠̟͉̙͈́̏͋̌́͘ͅa̠͍̥̳͍̩̠͎͋̃͑̾̏̍̐̌͘͜͝ḱ̸̰̹̻͐̚̚͟͢͡ ę̦̤̭͉̯̺̈́̍̉̀̓ t̡̢̲͍͇͎̩̜́͐̊͐̿͂̀͜ͅh̵̠͈̫̳͔̀̆̒̑̽̋̆̈̚͜ę̼̬͈͖̼̭̺̀̾̽̿͆͌͛͘͜͢m̧̗͖̮̙̹̣̰̅̈͆͗͘͟ ư͍̣̞͙̰͒͋͛̂͞p̧͕̖̲̳̠̥̲͎̪̓̋̃̋̇̚͡͞,̵̙̰̝̞̩͖̗̔̾̋̃̍̎̂̃̚ w̴̧̡̡̼̘̹͊̉̍͛͡ͅa̸͔̦̱͔̰̤͗͌͊̐͊ͅḱ̸̢͇͉̯̮̐̄͛̔̓e̷̢̢͔̬̫͉̬̅͗̒͋̆̈̚ ṯ̶̰̪̮̦̲̃̐̿͊͑͊͡ḫ̢̥̓̋̑̋̾͢ę̸̝͇̣̹͇̌̾̉̽̿̐͆̃̚͝m̵̧̱͖̬̯̻͂̾̄̅̓͘͢͞ ű̡̢͎͕͓̳̫͗́̆̉͟͡p̧̫̠̣͚͒̀̓̊͒͟.̛̖͇͔̮̮̝͍͛̉̐͟

 

 

W̛̗̯͈̱͖͔̄͌̓͝ e̵̢̨͙̗̦̣̬̣͇̗͊̄̽̄̽̊͒̚͘ n̸͔̼̺̯̠̘͌́͊̂͊͗͝ ȩ̱̲̮͓̠͛̾̈͌͡ e͈̺͓͚͇͎̖̪̜̟͌̐͛̈́̽ d̶͕͕̹̣̮̅͐̇̔̾̇̃ ỷ̧͖̠̘͍̯͚͓͕̗̉͂͌̌̓̌̋̎͞ ŏ̴̩̫̙̰̜̦͖̮̑̌̍̅̽̍͢͜͝ ų̵̧̰̻̰̰̫̤̫̊͒̑͛́̍͘͟͡,̸̻̙͙̫̫̽͂̀͛͂̾̓́͞ w̧̨̤̼͉̭̺̰̘̹̽̇́̋͝ e͕̯͎̙̺͔̓̂͒̈́͘ '̵̧̤̘͕̫͍̯̰̯͛̈́͗̅̾͜v̡̱͍̣̺͓̝̠͂̈́̒̃͠ e̵̦̜̪͉͕̙̩̗̺͋̇̓̌͜͡ a͈̭͎͉͋̿̋̈́̊͜ l̸̡̞̲͇̫͉̤̩̑̊͂̋̅̌̂̊͟͡ w̡̢̛͙͓͓̩͉̬̖̅͗͑͘͠͝ ą̵̤̞̼͙̫̥̱̜̪́̿̈́̋̈͘͘͡ y̞̠̗̠̫͎͍̒̄̌̃̕͘͘͝ s͉͓̮̗͉̺͍̈́́̋̏̍͞ n̨̖͓̥̞̒̇̏̆͂͐̕͘ e̢̘̯̠̻̝̥͉͋̄͛͊̓̊̕ e̝̲͎̺̝̮̫͒͂̽̆̾̍͒͢͞͝ d̸͔̠̥̥͚̆̄͛́̎͗̓͒̆̚͟ e͙̻̥͚̫͖̎̒̐͐̍̔ ḓ̲̰̝̥͔̙̲͕̉͆̿̅̽̾͠͠ ÿ̴̡̗̜̤̤͆̇̃̾́͐̕͘ ȍ̧̙̯͚̝̮͙̇͛̀̚͢͝͞ͅ ų̴̗̠̥̻̟̼͉̉̇̿̐̾̈́̉͠͝͞,̴̨̩̗͚̘̻͐̇̇̉́͒͋̕͢͢͡ 

 

Ẽ̮̙̱͍̮̌͗̿̆͜ͅ ď̙͉̣̞͎͑͛̐͑̕ d̮͍̩̞̲̲̅͛͛͑̔̈̀ i̬̰̤͉͛͋̅̃͋̓̀̍̕͢ ẽ̴̢̩̘̯͔̳̅̿͌̔̐̆̽̋̿͢.̩͕͙̩͚͇̯͕̂̎̐̚͢͢͝

 

As the water finally stilled, he whispered. “Rise.” 

After a long moment the water around him started to shimmer and ripple, the surface breaking as bodies lurched from the depths. Men, women and those in-between lurched towards the shores. They stank of rot and still waters. 

“Rise.” His hand turned into a fist. “Rise!” 

More and more rose, drifting to the shores. So many Eddie lost count as he watched. If Ironheade didn’t want him, he’d find someone who did. People who needed him. He had so, so, so much better now. 

\-------

“The real problem is if we can fix this car….” Ophelia muses as she looks over the wreckage that is Eddie’s car. The smoke had stopped spiraling out of it’s engine at some point whilst they were away. Now it was cold to the touch and smelled distinctly like the musty jungle air. “Did Eddie teach anyone how to work on his car-?”

The group of headbangers she gathered shook their heads. They were all mechanics in their own right, tending to their own vehicles. The redhead in the group spoke up. “Naw, he always… kinda took care of it himself.” 

“Somehow I’m not surprised.” She sighed softly back, “What did he tell you about cars?” 

“Well, he told us like ‘basics’, at least basics to him. Dunno how he knew so much about the titans stuff.” Another headbanger offered back as he rubbed the back of his neck. “…Do you think he’s ever gonna come back?” 

“I don’t know.” She admitted softly. “We chased him out. Would you come back if that happened to you?” 

That settled silence over the five men. “We could kick everyones asses and show him we’re sorry?”

Ophelia laughed a little, “I don’t- I don’t think that’d really help. He’d probably be frustrated all of you got hurt.” She rested her hand against her cheek, her expression fond but tired. “Why are you guys not-?” 

“Like totally against him?” A hat wearing headbanger finished for her, “Well, we heard what you said before. It’s just… I dunno hard to speak up when everyone is all revved up. I’m only used to seeing everyone get that mad about Lionwhyte’s goons. It feels like good y’know to fall into that frenzy, but- for Eddie it feels wrong? That makes sense right?” 

“Yeah, yeah it does.” She agreed, smiling a touch at the other headbangers nodding, comforting their friend. “Lita wanted to chase me away, but Lars… he saw I could help, he knew I was a person, more than who my parents were.” 

The headbangers drooped sadly at mention of their leader. The redheaded headbanger turned wistful. “…Man, I wish Lars was here.” 

“Yeah, he woulda- he woulda talked everyone down so easy!” The man with the hat agreed quickly, eyes going wide.

“He always knew what to do.” 

“Naw man, Eddie always knew what to do. He and Lars were like a dream team.” 

“We’ll get Eddie back.” Ophelia stated firmly. Her smile warming up at the responses from the men. If anyone believed in Eddie it was these five. “I promise.” 

“We know, we got your back, Ophelia.” 

“Yeah, just say the word and we’ll go on a secret Eddie finding mission with you!” Several nods were had and agreeable noises, just making Ophelia laugh. She held up her index finger, trying to settle the five men. “First, lets focus on the car. Teach me what Eddie showed you guys.” With Ironheade camped in Zaulia territory, it meant they had time to recoup. Time to learn about the gifts Eddie had left behind with them. The Titans had meant for them to learn this, so Ophelia was going to make sure it stuck. Ophelia intended on learning as much as she could if it meant she could catch up with Eddie. He was hopefully fine out there. He _had_ to be. He had survived worse things… right? 

\-----

He tied off the knot on the thread, smiling gently at the bride. As gentle as he could now, his lips had cracked and teeth jutted strangely in his mouth now in jagged points. “Trust me, this will be good as new.” He tucked the needle back into his flesh for safe keeping as the bride held up her veil. The tear from earlier was mended now, in a way that made it look like there had never been one in the first place.

“Oooh, my goodness!” She gushed, examining the delicate fabric. “How?” 

“Just got mad skills.” He joked softly back before continuing. “Think it’ll fit even better now.”

“My lord, you’re wondrous! The only man I can trust.” She breathed harriedly back, moving to place her veil back atop her head. She struggled with the combs to keep it in her hair. Eddie gave a fond sigh, stepping around so he could help her fasten it in place. “Here, I keep forgettin’ your fingers are a little jacked, Janice.” 

“Death does take flesh from you in the strangest places.” She agreed. She bowed back at Eddie before swishing away to join another bride. The two gladly chatting amongst themselves over their newly mended veils. 

Eddie cupped a hand around his mouth, leaning forward. “Next!” 

A grave digger stepped forward, “My greatest lord-“ 

The drowned man shook his head. “Eddie will do, my man. What’s up?” 

“Ah, well.” He hesitated before extending his hand. Some of his flesh was slopping off. Being in the water for years if not decades had done no one any favors. “Can you fix this for me?”

Eddie rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’ll see what I can do.” He pulled the needle from his arm, “I can’t promise anythin’ will stick. Flesh is kinda hard to keep on bone without y’know being alive.” 

The Gravedigger nodded, “Of course, anything is appreciated.” 

Eddie pulled the spool of thread he had on hand, managing to get the thread into the eye of the needle without much of a struggle. He tied off a knot, moving to turn the hand over, examining it for a long moment. “Here.” He found a spot with more flesh, peeling the glove the other man wore off for a better grip. “It’ll sting.” He warned as he glanced back up at the grave digger who simply nodded in turn. 

“Everything hurts my lord. Life is suffering. A never ending swell of sadness.” 

“Fuckin’ deep.” Eddie mused, bringing the needle down to start pulling the drowned man’s hand back together. His grip was gentle on the gravedigger’s wrist. “You gotta show me your poetry later.” 

The undead man flushed at that, “I- of course my lord. How did you know I wrote?” 

“You got that look about you.” As did most of the Doom. They were Eddie’s people now, but the savvier side of him always had some kind of remark to make. He was some fucking prep back then, wasn’t he? Ugh. “Read it for me later.” 

“Of course!” He sounded as enthused as an undead man could. Eddie continued working, eventually turning the hand over in his grasp to give it a once over. “Better. Flex your fingers for me.”

The gravedigger did as instructed, sucking in an unneeded surprised breath. "This feels much better!"

Eddie grinned back at him, tying off the knot before tucking the needle away once again. "Told ya I could fix it. Just give it some time to set it. I'll probably heal everyone more solidly later." 

He could feel _her_ pressed against his back, arms wrapped around his neck. Her soft voice in his ear again. Her weight was steady enough Eddie almost thought he could see _her_.

 

P̶̩̪̹̹̬̥̐̀̅̍̓͛͋ͅŗ̱̯͈͛̇̃͛̚ͅo͕̟͙̠̟̤̿͛̀́͒͒͛̕ţ̸̡̮̬̠̭̼̈́͊̿̓ͅẽ̸̹͔̫̰̬͙̦̄̈̌̚͢͢ç̴̗̪̻̮͎͖̂̐̒̀͊͆́̍͟t̵̤͖͙̩̰̮̜̓̆̊̈͟͠ t̡̟̻͙͈̤̮̝̿̋̽̚͜͝͞h̵̰̣͕̤̯̆̓̑̃̋ȩ̸̧̫̟͕͍͕͔̟̉͑̇̃̒̔̕͠m̼̟̰̫̙͒͑̒̎̉̔̆͞,̵̛͕̥̹̻̠͎̝̰͐̑̌̄͒̕̕͜ t̶̢̮̎̀̂̾͘͢͢͡͝ͅh̨̬͈̟̝͇̼͑̑̓̏̊̕ȩ̵̟͕̜͎̣͗͋́́̑ỵ̴̢̛̖͍̰̙̙̬͚̥̿͋̌̐͞ n̶̫̹̜̭̖̳͗̾̂͋̑͒͠e̶̤̻̳̤̠̰̓͊̽̍̊̒̃͘͢͟e̠̗̘̤̮͖͕̠̮͌͆̿̇̀̽̄͘͟ḓ̷̢̡̖͙͙̆͛̏̒͆̽́̏͠͡ͅ ÿ̸͉͈͕͔̖̺̭͎́͑͒͋̑̽͌͟͝ͅơ̡̤͍͚̣̱̙̲̂̂͆̃̌̍̓͂͜͢ū̴̢̗̘̘̬̫̭̪̣̾̒͌̓̊̓̎͝ͅ.̴͕̲̩̗̼͛͛͋̑͆̉͑

 

They _needed_ him. He needed to care for them. He would protect them. If he was going to be some fucked up freak, he was going to make sure he belonged somewhere. Even if it was here. 

Ateulia wanted him. That meant he was worthy. It meant he had a place. A real place somewhere.


	6. I'm searching for my soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contemplation of all kinds. Ophelia has a strong realization whilst Eddie works on mending broken souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter vaguely spiraled places unexpected since I realized there was like 0 kids present in Brutal Legend. NONE. 
> 
> So guess where they ended up??? take a wild guess, ya'll. Also, vague implications of suicide in this chapter.

Ophelia sinks into the ground, blinking rapidly as wooziness rolls through her. “ _Ohh_ , not good.” Kill Master’s hands are under her armpit after a moment hauling her up carefully. “Now ain’t the time to sit down here, love.” His voice is a steady comfort as he takes over moving her. 

“I know.” She huffed back weakly, “I was going to get up.”

“Mhmm.” He hauled her towards his bike, sitting her firmly down in the bed. “Sit.” Ophelia doesn’t protest, slouching further into the bike’s bed as Kill Master shakes his head at her. “Lemme heal you. Won’t fix everything, but will stave off your exhaustion enough to get your ass back to your tent and get some sleep.” 

Ophelia grumbled at that, sparring the man a defiant look. “I don’t need to rest-“ Kill Master cut her off, low on patience. “Yes, you do. You’ve been in and out of this camp with no down time most of the past two weeks. Get some damn rest.” 

Ophelia groans in frustration flopping back. “Fine!” Kill Master walks around the bike to sit down, actually starting to play his healing song. Ophelia can hear him muttering to himself. “She’s as bad as fucking Riggs…” 

Ophelia finds some amused comfort in that, exhaling as she closed her eyes. Ophelia doesn’t even realize she’s drifted off to sleep until Kill Master nudges her awake. 

“C’mon, lets get you back to your tent.” Ophelia nods sluggishly, stumbling to her feet. Kill Master helps her walk back, warning people to let her rest. 

The rest of the week is met with Kill Master chasing her back to her tent for rest by the time dinner time finishes up. Ophelia wants to be annoyed, but- it is kind of nice to be cared about. Her old worries about being a part of Ironheade being smoothed over by doting from Kill Master and other troops joining in. 

Ophelia starts to enjoy it until she stumbles into her tent one night and sees Eddie’s guitar propped up against her bed. The instrument had been forgotten in the haze of the day's events. 

They could have so, so easily turned on her instead of Eddie. 

—— 

_Her hand shakes as she clutches at her chest, her breath is shallow and shaky as Lita looms over her. The blonde woman’s face is pulled into a snarl. Sunlight glints off of the edge of her blade, it is stained red with blood. Eddie’s expression is horrified in the background, he goes from frozen to in motion faster than Ophelia thought possible as he shoves Lita away to crouch down next to her. Panic is so easy to read on his face, Ophelia feels her gaze tracing the lines of his features._

_His words are all just muffled incoherent sounds. Ophelia only really relaxes against the steadiness of his palm against her cheek. The warmth of his hand making her exhale out. Her body feels so heavy, it would be so easy to just let go. He's holding her and everything will be okay._

His panicked voice saying her name loudly startles Ophelia awake. She jerks up in her bed, clutching tightly at the necklace around her neck as she stares forward at the blank fabric wall of her tent.

“Yeah, just what I needed.” She muttered lowly to herself, flopping back onto the bed to stare at the ceiling of her tent unhappily. 

——

At night he can hear her sing. The sound is disjointed, yet mournful. Eddie wonders if anyone else in the faction can hear it. He doesn’t really ask given how people are still emerging from the sea and need his help. Eddie busies himself with mending the people who have fallen apart from soaking in the sea too long. The moon is heavy in the sky overhead, lighting up the landscape around them. Eddie’s settled down on a log, working with what supplies he can find in the abandoned things left in the landscape. People who came here to die simply left what they had in life around the sea. 

The steady crying and singing from Atuelia acts as decent background noise as he works. He mends flesh, bone and fabric as needed. Realigning a bone isn’t easy, but given how little feeling anyone has if he makes a mistake he has ample chance to try again. His people simply grunt or sigh at a second attempt, opposed to the assumed screams of pain one could expect of the living. 

No one really needs shelter or sleep anymore, but ingrained habits of life lead some to building a shanty town of sorts out of broken things. Eddie encourages what he can, more enthusiastic than his people are. Their emotions are dulled, whilst his own feel amplified in a way Eddie can’t quiet place. 

The children who emerge from the sea are the worst of the lot, there is less of everything to work with. They’re mostly small bones with saggy skin. Some have lost limbs, their heads or smaller pieces that can’t be replicated. He knits together what he can. Eddie can see they’re far more broken than the adults who’ve found him. They had no chance at life. No chance to grow. They were swallowed up by the wars that raged through the landscape and escaped to the sea for safety. Instead all they found was a terrible abrupt ending to what should have been a start. A flame was snuffed before it could steadily grow. 

“Here, I think this should do.” He’s managed to stitch an arm back into place, “Move it and tell me if it stays on.” The girl in question, nods wordlessly. Cautiously she moves her arm, which one had been ripped cleanly from her body and fell with her into the sea. Surprise settles across her features at the continuous easy movement, “It- its on!” She wiggles her arm aggressively and it has yet to fly off. Eddie has to laugh a little at her enthusiasm, watching from where he’s seated as she continues testing. 

“Hell yeah.” He holds a hand up on her level, “Five me, kid.” 

She stares at him, before remembering the brief explanation of high fives. With her new sewed on arm she whaps her hand against his own. For an undead seven year old, she has some strength behind that high five. Eddie has to admire it. 

“Don’t get too wild with it, the stitching needs to stay in your skin, brat.” He warns fondly. The girl huffs a little, black glassy eyes focusing back on the man in front of her. “Fiiiineeee.” 

“I’m the fuckin’ king, so what I says goes.” He stated dryly back already able to tell she was going to do what she wanted anyway. “Got it?” 

“Yeaaaaah.” She swung her arm around dramatically for effect before scampering off to join the other children Eddie finished helping. Eddie could only roll his eyes somewhat. “Fuckin’ kids.” 

——

Lita vanishes for long periods of time with Rima, far longer than Ophelia expected honestly. She had been somewhat surprised by the sudden friendship between the two women. Even if Lita returns to camp looking slightly ruffled and pink in the cheeks in a way Ophelia can’t quite pin down. 

Ophelia isn’t going to question it too much now, not when it gives her plenty of time to push through the jungle searching for Eddie or working on maintaining the Druid Plow. Even with the Zaulia’s help, the women won’t head far out past their comfortable limits. They strictly tell Ophelia the swamp is off limits. She can’t blame them, really. 

That is the way towards the sea of black tears. No one goes there if they want to live. Somehow Ophelia’s has a feeling Eddie’s managed to stumble into that without knowing its history. The land is practically cursed at this point. A war was lost in those lands, a war that set them back so far in everything. Ophelia is fairly sure her parents are still buried out there. She hasn’t ventured out there for a decade now. 

She sighs at the thought, thunking her forehead against the Druid Plow’s steering wheel. She knows she can drive out there when she has the engine rolling again. The terrain will be less arduous to get through with the car on her side of things. She could cover more ground quickly and avoid running into the wild life. 

“Are you going to just sit in that car forever? You’ve been here since this morning.” Lita’s voice startles Ophelia from her thoughts, making the brunette jerk up in the drivers seat looking to the passengers side. Lita’s leaning forward, squinting at her. It takes Ophelia a second to realize Lita’s lipstick is smudged across her face. “We’re going to be having a meeting soon, I’ll expect you there.” 

Ophelia just stares for a long moment. “Suurree.” Lita’s squint intensifies at that, suspicion clear on her features. “What are you staring at?”

“Your lipstick.” 

Lita’s hand drifts up to her lips, before she looks in the car’s side mirror. “Damn it. I told her…” 

Ophelia has to pause at that, openly confused. “ _Her _-? Rima? Did she apply your lipstick?” From as long as Ophelia has lived with Lita, Lita had a very distinct ‘do not touch me’ rule in place.__

__Lita gives her an almost pitying look for a long moment before she speaks. “Yes, she’s terrible at it.” She wipes at her face idly to try and correct her smeared make up. “Rima and I have an announcement regarding the war. The Zaulia did some scouting with our own troops and it turns out demon forces have taken over Bladehenge.”_ _

__Ophelia’s stomach drops at that, her grip tightens on the steering wheel. “They- they couldn’t have!”_ _

__“They have. We were too idle for too long.” Lita shook her head, “Spread the word about the meeting, we’ll be discussing plans further at the Tour Bus in two hours.” Lita vaguely peers back in the car’s side mirror, sighing again before giving up. “I’ll see you then.”_ _

__Lita strode off, leaving Ophelia with some time to work. When people walk by she does pass the word as instructed. Even from where she is at the edge of camp, Ophelia can hear the low murmur of warriors discussing what the meeting could be about._ _

__Ophelia has a feeling. She’s not sure if she wants to be proven right or not. When the time comes she joins the crowd, pushing her way to the front. A makeshift stage of loose odds and ends from the bus has been built to help Rima and Lita stand above everyone else. Both clearly want to be heard._ _

__Rima and Lita stand side by side, closer than Lita usually likes to stand next to anyone oddly enough._ _

__“We appreciate your attendance.” Rima opens cooly in turn, dark eyes sweeping over the crowd. Clearly more practiced in public speaking than Lita is. “We have an announcement of great importance to our mutual causes. The demonic influence on our homes has grown too strong. We will continue to work with Ironheade to cease this problem.”_ _

__Lita glances at the other woman, readily picking up the thread of conversation. “Even with the odd derailment of our original plans, we still have a war to fight. A war to reclaim our homes!” She throws a fist in the air, “Bladehenge has been taken by demons!” A gasp ripples amongst the crowd at that bit of news, Ophelia can feel the disapproval and righteous anger building up. Even with the uncertainty of Eddie’s disappearance and parentage, the troops have a loyalty to Bladehenge, a sense of belonging there._ _

__“We cannot stand for this injustice. Our home cannot be overrun by demons ever again! We will take Bladehenge back! We will end this demonic scourge at its source!” Cheers follow her shout. “We shall defeat the demons!”_ _

__Ophelia finds herself lost in the chanting and cheers, crushed in the thrush of excitement. A war shall rage once again, once again they shall fight for their freedom. Instead of the excitement and hope from before, Ophelia feels dread creep over her. A terrible realization settling over her shoulders._ _

__She’s going to have to break away from Ironheade if she’s going to find Eddie. They want to forget him, but she can’t. His necklace feels heavy around her neck. A reminder._ _


	7. I never asked to fall from grace

After the announcement Ironheade starts planning their next war. Travel plans materialize within hours of the announcement itself, two days before they all set out. The war will continue at sundown. 

Ophelia uses that time to focus on finishing her engine. She keeps her head down and mouth shut. The brunette doesn’t intend on telling Lita just what her plans _are_. Ophelia isn’t sure how to approach it anyway. Not without being officially thrown out. She isn’t sure she wants to really deal with that now. She does her best not to dwell deeply on the issue. She knows that’s how everyone else is dealing with the loss of Eddie at this point.

By the time the day to leave arrives, Ophelia knows she’s ready. She has what she needs packed in the trunk of the Druid Plow. Now all she can do is offer a chance. 

Maybe it’s less a chance and more a plea. She isn’t wholly sure. After so much waffling and quiet uncertainty regarding the topic of Eddie, Ophelia knows this will end up being her pleading for help. 

Hours before Ironheade plans on leaving a small group of warriors are huddled around the Druid Plow. A mixture of Razor Girls, Headbangers, Bouncers and Roadies. People she’s worked with closely out of anyone else, other people who survived so far. 

“Look, I appreciate all of you being here.” She tucks some loose hair behind her ear, “I know things are going to be… tense and hectic soon. I do have to ask if any of you would want to come with me. I just wanted to know. I’m leaving to find Eddie.” 

“I ain’t too surprised.” One roadie murmurs with a slow shake of his head. “You’ve been off looking for him pretty often. Any chance you got you’re out looking.” 

Ophelia’s lips quirk into a sad kind of smile. “Someone has to find him. He’s still _Eddie_ demon heritage or no. He saved us. He’s our friend. He’s helped us get to this point.”

“Yeah, but…” A Headbanger scratched his cheek nervously. “Is he still alive though?” His hand dropped away, “I mean, we just, its been awhile.”

“Those lands are cursed.” A Razor Girl mused weakly. “Even the Zaulia won’t go far into it.” One of the roadies snorted nosily at that, rolling his eyes, his mustache bristling with his words. “They ain’t cursed. That land is just dirt like anything else.” 

“Yeah, but most of humanity is buried there.” Bit out another Razor Girl, glaring up at the Roadie. The two glared at one another heatedly clearly on the edge of an argument.

Ophelia sighed a little, cutting in. “Guys…” She held a hand up settling the brewing argument. “I know Eddie has to be alive. He survived the demon temple, he survived so much worse than us turning on him.” Her words make the group grimace. A few people wilt in guilt. Some part of Ophelia thinks they deserve that guilt. 

“I dunno, Ophelia. That’s real risky.” Bitterness settled sharply in her gut, Ophelia was trying to stay hopeful but had a rough idea no one would come with her. She wanted to believe others would join her, a rag tag team of friends joining her.

“You’re marching off to war, that’s fairly risky too.” She shook her head a little, her shoulders drooping slightly. She has to contain her frustration until she’s alone. She’s been a ball of bitterness for years wearing a smile, she can manage a little longer. “I can’t force anyone to come with me. I won’t guilt you about it. I… had a feeling no one would come right now.” Ophelia is disappointed but knows she can’t change their minds. She’ll leave it open, make it less final. “I’ll come back though, with Eddie in tow.” 

“How are you going to find us? I mean… we don’t know where we’ll be.” A Bouncer stated quietly. “How are you gonna stay in contact with us?” 

“With a walkie talkie, duh.” Mangus’ voice breaks through the uncertainty, the huddle steps aside as the stage technician moves forward. He’s smiling at all of them, a light in contrast to the heaviness of the topic. 

“Mangus- are you sure?” Ophelia is fairly sure they only have so many walkie talkies on hand. Without Eddie around none of them know how to make them. 

“Completely.” He pulls a walkie talkie from his pocket, holding it out to Ophelia. “Here. You gotta stay safe and tell us how it goes!” Ophelia readily accepts the walkie talkie, turning it over in her hand for a moment before looking up at Mangus. A grateful smile curled across her lips. 

Mangus smiles brightly back at her, adjusting his headphones nervously unsure what to do with his empty hands. “Y’know I’d go with you, right? So would KM.” 

“I do, but if Lita is going to war, they need someone behind the booth.” Even with her frustrations, Ophelia doesn’t want to punish Ironheade by taking away their stage technician. Much less will she take the head healer from Ironheade. With her free hand she reaches out to touch Mangus’ shoulder, offering it a squeeze. “Ironheade needs you, Mangus.” 

“We need you too.” A Razor Girl says quietly, nervously toying with the hem of her shirt. “You’re one of us, Ophs.” Ophelia’s gaze drifts back to the youngest Razor Girl present. She’s barely a teenager at this point, one of the youngest people in the faction. 

Lionwhyte had kept men and women so separated children had become a wild rarity. Any children born had a high likelihood of being of Lionwhyte’s blood. Not that anyone wanted to dwell on that fact now. No one wanted to directly go ‘You’re the child of our kidnapper’. 

“I think you guys will be just fine without me.” 

“You set us free!” The youngest Razor Girl insists, her hands balling into fists at her sides. Tears are gathering in the corner of her eyes, as she starts to shake. “Of course we need you!” 

Ophelia clips the walkie talkie onto her belt, stepping forward to sweep the teenager into her arms. “Hey, hey-“ The girl clings to her, shaking. 

“Everything is falling apart.” She whimpers in turn. “I hate it.”

The girl’s words make Ophelia’s stomach sink. She can only hold the teenager close, rubbing her back. “I know. I do too.” She gives the teenager a squeeze, pulling back to smile softly at her. “Things will be okay. Not perfect, but, okay.” 

“It can’t be.” The teenager manages, green eyes still full of tears. Her blonde hair was falling into her eyes, hairspray having little effect in the moist environment of the jungle. 

“It will.” Ophelia reaches up to wipe away a tear, “It will, believe me.” She gave the girl another squeeze before pulling away. When she steps back other faction members present step in to take care of the teenaged Razor Girl. Arms are wrapped around her shoulder, gentle words exchanged- Ophelia wonders why this can’t be the status quo for Ironheade. The compassion she knows lives in them is so buried in bravado. 

Ophelia spends the rest of the evening gathering up supplies, saying goodbye to people she cares about. She skates around Lita for as long as she can. Things are already complicated enough without bringing Lita into this.

—— 

Finding the camp empty was almost nice. The steady silence only broken by animal calls and the occasional rumble of thunder was something Eddie could step into more readily than the haphazard plan he had to challenge Ironheade to a fist fight. His time with the undead left him with an appreciation of quiet.

He walked around the skeletal remains of the well lived in camp. Broken down tents, extinguished fire pits and broken bottles still littered the air, a blemish from humanity. They had been gone fairly long given the state of things.

If he had kept helping them, would Ironheade been the same humanity that burned a scar into the planet? The people whose families would destroy the earth Ormagoden made them?

He crouched low into the ground, fishing out a beer bottle from a snow bank. He twisted the cap off, rolling it between his fingers as he his gaze drifted across the campsite. He brought the bottle up to his lips, drinking the cold remainder of the beer. The liquid spilled downwards, dribbling across his exposed ribs. He snorted a little as it splattered across his spine and back into the snow.

“Right, I’m dead now.”

He crushed the bottle in his hand throwing the shards of glass back onto the ground. Black liquid dribbled from his hand into the snow under foot as he rose. The snow bubbled and sizzled as Eddie’s blood spilled onto it. He leaves a trail behind him as he moves. Eddie drifted across the camp, picking through left over belongings. Anything left he can take back with him.

Eventually he came to a stop at a mound of discolored earth. A smooth stone sat at the head of what Eddie realized as a grave. A haphazard grave marker made by people in grieving. 

“…Lars.” He breathed out softly, staggering to a stop. 

They just left Lars here. Why? Why would they?

“If they won’t take care of you, I will.” He promised, moving to run his clawed fingers across the stone in place of a headstone. “I’m here for you, Lars.” His hands dig into the snow, unhurt by the sting of the ice as he worked on unearthing his friend. The dirt and snow sizzled from his blood, staining it black in his wake. 

“I’ll never leave you.”

——

Ophelia discovers driving is oddly comforting. The quiet of the landscape is surreal once she turns down the radio. Animal noises feel so much more loud without the constant noise of living amongst other people. The rumbling of the car under her makes Ophelia feel steadier to some extent. Is this how Eddie felt when he was driving around? 

Whilst she’s still getting a hang of driving around, Ophelia has room to experiment now. She doesn’t have to worry about accidentally running someone over or being stared at whilst figuring out the controls. Eddie had made driving look so effortless everyone assumed you had to just _know_ it when you’re in the drivers seat. The lack of color commentary is kind of nice. 

The brunette focuses on turning the car into a drier corner of the swamp. She takes shelter away from the overhanging nooses and moist dripping trees. 

She exhales slowly, reclining back in the drivers seat. 

“The real question is where to start…” Her head thunks back against the seats headrest. Ophelia decides she’ll pull apart the landscape to find Eddie. The sea will be last, out of necessity. Not because she doesn't want to be tempted, not because she's afraid, no- she's being practical. 

The radio crackles to life in the passengers seat startling Ophelia from her thoughts. "Ophs! Yo!" Mangus' voice feels so loud in the quiet of the landscape. Ophelia plucks up the walkie talkie bringing it up to her lips. 

"Mangus? Are you okay?" Worry knots at her guts as she wonders what could cause him to call so soon. The delay in his response wasn't helping her worry any. "Mangus?" 

"Yeah! I'm here! I'm good! I just- wanted to wish you good luck." There is a pause before he continues. "I'm driving the bus now, since I'm alone again, I thought I'd say that. I don't want you to feel alone."

"...Thank you." The sentiment makes her expression soften, she shifts in her seat to look out at the landscape. "I needed that." 

—— 

Her whispering grows more intense the closer they get to the sea. Eddie can barely hear himself think anymore. He hears the woman’s voice, Ateulia whispering low and jagged words he can’t quite parse out. Her voice is both beautiful and horrifying in a way Eddie can’t explain. He’s not sure if anyone else can hear her in the same way he can.

 

Ỉ̶̡̦̦̩̦͕̿̓̿̔͆̽͝͡͠ c͕̪͈͚͔̠͉͂͒̆̎͐͒̐̊͟͞͡ą̪͖̮̣͆̔͗̎̍͢n̶̩̪̲̮̲̠̞͙͆̆͊͑̈͐́̾͊͜ f̨̥̙͈͖̬̝͊̉̅͗̐͋̓͆͛͟i̴̡̧̩̲̰̞̪͚͕̊̔̈́̕͡ͅx̨̹͎̺̭̞̰̺͋͛̌͌̅̃̍͛̕̚ h̡͖̖̮̪̮̰̞̎̇̾̀̉̇͋̕͢͟͡͡i̶̧̗͔͎̬͋̆̇̓͊̓͛̐͘͟͡m̴̮͉̙͉͇͐̿̄̾̕̚̕̕͠͠ͅ  
̷̢̡̛̠̩̯̲̭̹͆̍̈́͆̈́̉̋͟ľ̨͓͇͓̳̜̍̈̔͘͠e̡̥̗̟͖͗̋̃̓̊̾̌̽͞ͅt̷̗̖̖̦̞̰̙̳̳̓̉̈̚  
̶̬͖͎̯̼̝̊̏̂̐̊͜͢͝m̵̧̢͍̻̥̻̣̾͊̊̔́͐̈́͗͘͜͞ę̨͇͙̥̭̳͕̃̉̾̅̒̓͛͟͞  
͖̻̙̞̺̜͗̎̽͘͢͞h͈̮͔̖̲̥͙̩̺͋̓͗̉̃͒̀́̂͟e̶͈̳͍͕̯͖̓̀̋́͒͐͘ͅl̶̞̲͖̰͖̤͈̐̈̓̑̇͘͟͝ṗ̨̡̛̪̥̬̰̖̿̐̀̕͡  
̰̹̪̫̎͗̓͐̾͂̇̈́̕͜͠ͅy̷̨̜͔̪̦̥̤̽̒̐̇̉̓͢͝ o̡̢̫̗͚̳̪̖͂̽̂̕͞͡ ṳ̢̞̯̲̫͙̋̊͒̓̈́̋

Eddie just keeps his grasp steady and firm as he flies. He can feel Ateulia’s weight start pressing down onto him the close he draws to _home_. Her arms are a familiar vice around his throat, cold clammy hands pressed against his open ribs. Those delicate sea soaked fingers moving across bone.

 

E̖͈̘̖̠̱̎͒̏͋͌̂͜d̵̢̨̨̨̦̲̣͗͛̏̊́͊̚̚͞d̵̳̜͖̣̮̼̅̾̆̈̽͒͂̽͘ï̶̡̡̪̼̽͑͟͝e̥̫̝̠͙̣͔͓̐́̔̌̈͡ͅ,̹̠̺̩̖͖͎͛͆̐̊̂̍͂̓̈͟ͅ I̡̺̠̼̰̟͙̙̋̃͛̊̀̿̃̍ͅͅ w͇̮̞̣̪̄̽̂̉̃̇̒̚͜͡ȋ̵̹̫͚̞̪͈̺̮́̂́̈̌͟ͅl̴̥̩̩̽̓̄̌̉͆̎̑͜͢l̷̼̜̱̣̭̠̖̻̽͗̑͒̂̆̽̈́ m͔͚͖͍̺̦̯͍̩̺͂̄̐̈͌̎̊͗̚a̸͓̗̗͎̓̄͐̏̐̀͂̈̄͒͜k̻̟̪̩̱͉̎̎̓̎̄͊̓̋͠e̮̠̻̪̤̐̏̍̚ͅ t̨̜̝͉̱̠̮̱̮͋͛́̉̓̎̔h̯̖̙̮̬̬͎̿͒̎̑͘ȋ̧͚̘̞̺̍̉̈́̿̓͡s̸̛̼̭̜͚͎͇̼̗̄͐͋͗̍̑͢  
̧̛̫̬̳̤̘̦͚͌̂̀̐͢  
̡̘̭̭͚͋͌̋̉̇͝ͅb̵̧̛̰͉̤͉̍̏̀̑͂͋̃̽͘͟ ē̴̳̰̪͈̲̜̫͚͖͐̓͆͘̚ ţ̴̥̞͓̥̹̇̒͛́̎̊̚͢͠ t̴̜̲̼̳̖̝̻͛͌͐̓̏ ĕ̡̝̥͔̠̐̒͆̿͞͡͠ ṛ̨͕͈̹̝͙̹͍̑̑̔̌͠

 

He knows he can trust her out of anyone. Her hand cups his cheek, tender and kind. As he lands with his friend in his arms, he knows the sea will take care of him.


	8. You saw it all over my face

_”It’ll be all right, poppet.” A steady hand settled against her back, slowly but surely he started rubbing a slow circle against her mid-back. “You know your ma and I will keep you safe.”_

_All she could do was sniffle softly. Ophelia peered up at her father through the veil of hair obscuring her face. Stray strands clung to her face from the damp remnants of her earlier crying fit. “Promise?”_

_“Course.” The hand drifted upwards to gently ruffle her hair. “I’ll always keep promises. Specially to my poppet.” The use of his nickname for her made her lips quirk upwards slightly as she blinked away the last of her tears._

_“Good. You- better not break it.” The playful threat came out flat, but her father still laughed softly, holding Ophelia close. The four year old squirmed closer to her father, just draping herself on him at this point._

_“The wrath of Ophelia ain’t something I wanna see.” He joked, kissing the top of her head gingerly. “You all done crying now?”_

_Ophelia managed a quiet, “Mhmm.” She wiped at her eyes, she unstuck hair clinging to her face as she reclined against her father. “Tell me a story.”_

_“Which one?”_

_“Bout, how you and mom met.”_

_Her fathers voice washed over her, telling the familiar well worn story of meeting his wife. Ophelia found herself comfortably lulled into the story, gaze focused on her father’s face._

Ophelia blinked slowly, yawning tiredly as her father’s story hung heavily in her mind. At some point she had managed to press her face against the hard smooth metal of the back of the car’s seat. She groaned a little forcing herself to sit up fully to rub at her cheek. 

“I need to find an actual place to camp next time.” Sleeping in the car wasn’t going to really cut it in the long run. The only problem was the fact Ophelia had no idea what bit of land was dry enough and stable enough to be suitable for her tent. The crackling of the radio buzzing to life startled Ophelia from her thoughts.

“Ophelia?” Kill Master’s voice was fuzzy but still audible enough. The brunette picked up the radio, pressing down on the button releasing it once she stopped speaking. “Kill Master, what’s going on?”

“Wanted to give you the skinny on what’s going on mostly.” There was a pause before he continued. “We gained some ground, turns out demons are real scared of the Zaulia. Good amount of them fled at the sight of ‘em. Those that didn’t burned up fairly nice.” 

Relief rolled through the woman at that, she sank into her seat with an exhale. “How many casualties?”

“Not many thankfully. A Zaulia- Kritzee was her name according to Rima and a few headbangers. The demons didn’t expect us to swing back at ‘em as hard as we did.” 

“It’ll be worse next time.”

“Well, aren’t you the optimist.” Kill Master chuckled in turn, making Ophelia groan a little. She pressed down on the button at the side of the walkie talkie with more force than necessary. “I’m being real here!” 

“Real sensitive.” Kill Master mused idly, mostly amused. “I know we’ll have worse next time. The element of surprise ain’t around any more. We got a camp established and are making enough waves demons are running.” 

“What if- what if their emperor shows up?”

“We’ll do our best to kick his ass.” Ophelia could hear the uncertainty lingering in the man’s voice, though he was masking with an air of casualness. “If things go to shit, we’ll call you.”

The suggestion made her laugh mirthlessly. “Just call in your single reinforcement.”

“Damn right.” 

—— 

She gave a slow exhale, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment longer until the familiar set of fingertips moved across her cheek. Lita yawned sleepily now, lashes feeling heavy as she relaxed into the other woman’s touch. Rima’s hands were rough, work worn and battle scarred. Lita was beginning to recognize the scars by touch now. 

“How long-?” She finally opened her eyes to meet Rima’s gaze. It was still odd to see the other woman without makeup. It felt like Rima was missing something vital. It felt vulnerable. Lita wasn’t sure what to think of vulnerable now. 

‘Not long enough.” Rima mused firmly, “You are haggard, like a beast ready to burst from carrying the weight of ten fully armed Zaulia.” 

“I never knew there was a measurement that fit me quite as well.” Lita mused dryly, tiredly closing her eyes again. Lita was still adjusting to the idea of being this relaxed with someone so close by. Lars had been the only person she used to relax with, someone she knew wouldn’t turn on her whilst she slept. Now Rima had simply stepped into a gap Lita tried to ignore. Rima stepped over the hole Lars had left into a new position Lita didn’t know she needed filled. 

It was supposed to be something casual, something either could break off easily. Yet… she found herself meshing with Rima in a way she hadn’t quite expected. 

“Do you wish to rest longer?” Those hands drifted across her cheek fondly again. 

Lita grunted a little, “Maybe.” More sleep sounded like a gift from the titans at this point. 

“Rest then. I’ll keep watch.” 

Lita cracked open an eye at that, “We’re safe.”

“For how long?” Lips brushed across Lita’s forehead gently. The gesture alone made Lita’s stomach flip flop nervously. “This is war, Queen Of Ironheade. War is never safe for long.” 

Lita gave a sleepy undignified snort. “Truly, you know how to comfort me.” 

“Comfort comes in small doses. Do not waste this one.” The dark haired woman dipped in to kiss Lita quickly, only pulling away to sit up. “Rest.” Lita huffed a soft laugh, stroking her fingers along the small of Rima’s back best she could before turning over to sleep once again. Rima was a spot of safety in an uncertain world. One Lita was daring to indulge in. 

Rima stayed seated next to the blonde woman, bare of her usual regalia until Lita stirred again. Once Lita was awake again, the two women dressed in silence. Only lingering inside Lita's tent to share another kiss. Rima was the first to break away, walking out of the tent. Lita hesitated touching her lips before following after the Queen of the Zaulia. 

—— 

The search through the untouched lands, lands spoken of in whispers and avoided by all humans proved to be… rather dull actually. Ophelia wished she had managed to convince _someone_ to come with her. She might have even tolerated Lita at this point. 

She stared idly at the walkie talkie, hesitating before picking it up and turning it on. She pulled off to the side to avoid crashing into anything whilst talking. “Mangus? Kill Master?” 

“Ophelia!” Mangus sounded fairly happy to hear from her. “What’s up?” 

“Driving mostly. Its kind of boring?” Maybe she shouldn’t have admitted that, but she might as well be honest. “What’s happening with Ironheade?” 

“Oh y’know, the usual.” Mangus was moving around while talking. “Lita was kinda mad about you leaving, but- uh, Val and the other Razor Girls kinda covered for you. Said you were looking for more demon activity.” 

“…That is technically true?” Did Eddie count as demon activity? 

“It’s super true far as I’m concerned.” Mangus laughed a little, the sound only partially carrying over the radio. “But yeah, the usual. Patrols are picking up, we’re pushing forward with the whole reclaiming land stuff, Rima and Lita are- y’know lip-locked together when they get the chance. Typical stuff.” 

Ophelia paused for a long moment. “…Lip-locked?” 

“Y’know. Making out. You and Eddie did it a lot too when you thought you were being sneaky. You guys were always kinda obvious about it.” 

A flush crept up the back of her neck at Mangus’ teasing, the brunette sputtered for a moment trying to find her words. When she did she squeaked back. “ _Rima and Lita_?”

“Uh, yeah. Why did you think they kept disappearing for hours like that?” 

“I… Thought they were just hanging out? Making battle plans? Practicing at how to glower the most effectively?” 

“Ophelia…” The amused if not slightly pitying tone in Mangus’ voice made Ophelia cover her face with her free hand. Now she was officially red, red from head to toe. Ormagoden help her. She felt like a huge idiot. 

“Look-“ She released the button on her walkie too soon giving Mangus a chance to cut her off. 

“Ophelia this is kinda…” He trailed off and Ophelia groaned in embarrassment. “Stop.”

“Sad.” He finished making her scowl. “How did you not realize?” 

“I try not to think about Lita being lip-locked with anyone.” She huffed defensively back, eyes darting around the dreary landscape partially hoping something would try to murder her to save her from this conversation. 

“She not your type?” 

“We are _not_ talking about this.” Her voice went up a pitch, turning into an embarrassed squeak. When she releases the button on the walkie talkie she can hear Mangus chuckling when he responds. 

“You liked Lars, I thought you just liked blondes until Eddie showed up.” Mangus clearly was going to good-naturedly give her shit over this. “I guess she did try to stab you a lot. Unless… you’re like into that?” Mangus’s tone shifted into thoughtful at that only making Ophelia honk in embarrassment. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drive off a cliff.” She turned off the walkie talkie thunking her head against the steering wheel. The horn blasted loudly as Ophelia wondering if she could just jump into the sea now. 

—— 

 

He drew the needle through the skin carefully, the skin pulled taunt with his movements. Eddie brought it back down after a moment to pierce back into the flesh he had just left. Exposed bone was slowly being hidden with his ministrations. Slowly but surely bone was vanishing under skin pulled close. The dark blue coloration of the flesh to some part camoflaogued the dark colored thread. 

Under his hands the man slowly breathed out, not that he needed to at this point. Lashes fluttered as eyes settled upon Eddie’s face. Eddie offered the other man what he could of a reassuring smile. Given Lars uncertain expression it wasn’t all _that_ reassuring. 

“Edward?” 

“Relax.” Eddie’s palms drifted across the exposed ribcage, watching an enlarged black heart beat next to its smaller companion. “You can relax now. I’m fixin’ this.” 

“What-?” Lars was still disoriented, Eddie tapped at his fingers gently against Lars exposed sternum. “Relax. I got this.” The blonde man gave a weak sigh, eyes sliding closed. Grief curled across his features, a hand clutching at one of Eddie’s own. “Did I die?” 

The roadie hesitated, voice going soft. He squeezed Lars hand in his own, careful with his fingers. Flesh on one hand was barely hanging on as it was. Eddie didn't want to reduce it to just bone. “Yes.” Lars sunk back into the smooth rock he was laid on, practically going limp in despair. His new attachment to the sea only made the grief swallow him whole. Eddie quietly held his hand letting his friend come to terms with the news.

“You’re dead as well?”

“Yes.” Lars grip tightened around Eddie’s hand, “What has this become, Eddie?” 

“War, Lars. War against those who hurt us.” A war against Ophelia, against Ironheade, against the demons. If they wanted him to be a monster, he would become one. 

He just needed time to build. With Lars here, things would be so much simpler. He’d make sure to protect his friend this time, make up for his mistakes on one front at least. “I’m bringing you back to the best condition I can. Then, we’ll figure this out.” 

Eddie could hear Ateulia's voice low and soft, her hand steadying his further. "First, I gotta finish making sure you're okay." He appreciated her reminder. There was work to do. 

There was always work to do. He rethreaded the needle carefully, making sure the thread was taunt before he started working once again. Lars watched uncertainly, keeping one hand on Eddie's arm for comfort. Eddie never shook the man off, simply whispering comforting words in turn. 

Ateulia spoke through him, spoke the words he wanted to say. 

.  
.  
I͖̠̼͎̰͕̱̊̅̀̎̐͞͞͠'̵̨̡̢̛̟̺̞̖̙̇̐̐̑͘̕̕͝ļ̵̤͍͚͓̱̜̳̬̔̆͂̔́̓̕͞l̴̛͍̦̝͑̍͂̋̆͟͢͜͝ p̡̬̭͚̜̳̲̰͊͋͛̂͂͌̓̾͝ͅŗ̸̫̜̱̰͉̲̽̒̓͋̕͡o̺͖̝͈̿̈̏̏̈͘͢͟ţ̛͎̮̳̘̤̣̜̐̋͌̓̉̚̚ę̢̛̟̻̮̰̙͎̬̫̉̿̿̌̂͒̄̚c̸̨̼̠͔̪̜͚͒̋͐̅͋̊̚͢͠t̵̨͖͈͎͙̐͋͌̆͂͒ y̴̢͉͓̗̪͒̒̉̆́̃͑͘͢o̴͉͉̫͖̿̓̓̆̉̎̊̊͝ͅṷ̡̨͎̳̘̹̮̝͙̏̑̔̾̐͘,̢̬̖͈̞͓͕̭͔͐̑̋͂̉̉͒͜͡͡ I͖̭̟͔̰̱̥̤͓̒͗̓͠͝ͅ p̸̘͔̝͈̆̍͛͂͜͝͠r̵͕̬̮̪̂̎͂̏̓́̋̋̚͜͝o̷͉͚̜̳͍̟͈̻͛̒̓̊͐̈͘m̵̡̤̟̬̦̼̬̾̑̉̄̕ì̶̝͔̤̖̰̰͚͌̾̏̂͐̎̚͠s̹͈̟̤̝̣̰̙͕̀̉͌͋̈͢ë̢̤̻̠̼̞̯́͒͛̄̐͋͂̕͢͜.̢̰̱̮̘̥̽͐̿̆͑͢͡  
.  
.


	9. Maybe life is more than just a dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victories, losses and discoveries.

With a frustrated sound Ophelia pulled the car to the side, opening the door and stepping out. Her search was proving fruitless at best. Another day wasted. She stomped away from the Druid Plow to grumble to herself. 

The past week had been searching every corner she could and evading wild life she couldn’t kill on her own. The wild life was genuinely aggressive out here, which lead to mostly sleeping in the Druid Plow to avoid being attacked without some kind of defense.

She kicked a stone angrily, swearing under her breath as she came to a stop a few feet from the Druid Plow. The stone bounced satisfyingly across the dry dirt, kicking up clouds on its way before smacking into a much bigger rock. The much bigger rock ended up being an animal Ophelia had been running away from. A Sickle Wraith sat up slowly, glassy eyes narrowing back at her as its wings extended out. Greasy limp black hair tumbled over its shoulders as it turned towards her. It gave low creaky squawk, awakening two other Sickle Wraith’s sleeping next to it. 

“Fuck.” Ophelia was more than happy to beat a hasty retreat back, cursing her idiocy for leaving her weaponry in the car. She turned tail and darted back towards the vehicle using the creatures natural slowness to grab at the first thing she could in the passengers seat. In her hurry she grabbed Clementine. With an unpracticed hand she slammed her fingers across the strings. Eddie had done this so effortlessly before. 

Lightening broke through the air, rocketing down on the three creatures. Ophelia kept playing rapidly as she awkwardly threw herself into the passengers seat, nearly sitting on her blades and walkie talkie in the process. She managed to avoid being stabbed as she jostled herself into the drivers seat. The rapid playing was only making the guitar strings grow warmer, but Ophelia knew she needed to get away from these creatures before they attracted _more_. 

“Ow- fuck!” she withdrew her hands as the chords temperature got a bit too hot for her to deal with. She shook her hand, trying to cool it off as the stunned creatures staggered forward. One beast fully unsheathed its wings, flapping them readily aiming itself at the Druid Plow.

Ophelia grabbed her blades, swinging it out and knocking the beast back. It gave her enough time to rev the engine, taking off. Unsurprisingly the Sickle Wraiths tried to follow, giving up after a mile of driving. Once she was sure she had completely lost them, Ophelia pulled off to the side of the road again. Carefully she picked up Clementine, feeling a little silly she hadn’t thought to use the guitar again. 

“I need to- use this.” She stated firmly to herself, “I’m going to learn those songs Eddie plays and make things right.” The rest of the day she spent out of the way practicing solo’s until she knew at least three of them. 

—— 

Mangus grinned a little as he set his clipboard aside to lean over the edge of the booth, hollering down. “We did it!” His shout was one of many echoing through the grassy plains. Cheers of excitement and relief filled the cool evening air as the humans celebrated. 

Another wave of demons had been driven off, more of the landscape was being returned back to Ironheade. This had been their biggest victory yet. They were finally holding ground, fortifying and ensuring the land was safe. 

The demons were being beaten back bit by bit. 

Mangus ducked back into the booth to pick up the walkie talkie, clicking the dial to try and call Ophelia. “C’mon, this is great news!” He held down the button calling out her name before releasing it. He frowned a little, wondering if she was asleep or away from the car. 

“Dang. I guess I missed her?” He was only distracted from his second attempt by the back booth’s door being flung open. Several headbangers had come to sweep him out of the back to celebrate properly apparently.

“Mangus! It’s time to party!” 

The pot-bellied man gave a low laugh, grinning back as he rose from his seat to be dragged away. If Ophelia was asleep, he wasn’t about to wake her up. “Time to paaarttyy!” 

He would come pick up the walkie talkie later. 

——

 

_"Tell me a story."_

_Her father quirked a brow at her request. His dark eyes lost under the sway of his hair. “Which one, Poppet?”_

_Ophelia paused, biting at her bottom lip in thought. The little girl only wanted some time with her dad. The story didn’t matter as much. “The one where you and mom met Riggnarok.”_

_The man laughed lowly, hand ruffling her hair fondly. “Good choice, poppet.” Ophelia gladly flopped against her father, smiling up at the man. With a familiar easiness her father fell into the story. As he spoke, she wove flowers together into a chain. One stitch, two stitch, one stitch, two stitch. She was delicate with the flowers gentle petals._

_Ophelia was happy to listen, until his voice suddenly stopped. “Papa-?”_

_“Shh.” He held up a hand, slowly motioning for her to lay low to the ground. The brunette scrambled to do what he wanted, brown eyes wide as she watched her father pick up his spiked mace. He crouched low in the swaying grass, knuckles tightening around the handle of his weapon as he carefully moved forward._

_It didn’t take long for Ophelia to lose sight of him. She held her breath, staying still as she waited. Her hands were shaking, knocking petals loose from the flowers. She was trying to remember what her father told her to do in this situation._

_Then the screams began. Her father’s voice rang loudly in her ears. His screams continue until she cannot shake any longer._

Ophelia jerked up in her seat, hand flying to her mouth as she tried to calm her breathing. “Papa…” Her mind was still reeling trying to put the pieces of what the dream was together. 

Ophelia shifted in the drivers seat, grabbing the flask of water she had tucked in the dashboard’s compartment. She unscrewed the cap to take a long sip. She could honestly really use a beer at this point. 

Once the cap was back in place, she dropped the flask onto the passengers seat next to the walkie talkie. The brunette doesn’t hesitate to bring the car to life as she revs the engine and takes it out of park. She has to search. She needs to do _something_. 

She has to find him. The landscape is wide before her, dark and looming. The crackle of the walkie talkie is her only company as she pushes onwards. For once the thought of listening to music only leaves her quietly discomforted. 

—— 

“What a glorious little rain cloud! How do you summon it like this?” Lars amazed voice is louder than he intends it to be as he oogles at the cloud floating over a bride’s head. The woman giggles at his reaction, clasping her hands together. 

“Aaaa, well it just happens!” She flips her veil partially back to smile at the blonde man. 

“Astounding!” Lars reaches up to poke at the cloud experimentally. The Bride just keeps giggling at the attention, her back and forth with Lars something shockingly airy and playful given their surroundings. 

“He isn’t quite like the rest.” A tall lithe man mused nearby, drawing Eddie from watching the display. Crowley was a new arrival, but one who made his presence known where he went. Eddie had taken notice of the man fairly immediately upon his exit of the sea. His demeanor and weapon of choice were unusual given the lines being drawn for his people now. Crowley spoke softly, very intentional with each word choice. When he spoke, he meant to be heard and would not repeat himself. 

“I could say the same for you. You don’t exactly do the same shit as everyone else.” Eddie mused with a toothy kind of grin. 

Crowley shrugged, tipping his bowler hat back slightly in thought. “Neither do you. You and Lars are… not quite right here. Broken pieces of something dropped into the sea.” His gaze drifted meaningfully to Eddie’s exposed ribcage. 

Eddie shrugged, “Not quite right, but not wrong either. Kinda like jammin’ two broken puzzle pieces together and hopin’ for the best. So far, so good.” 

“It would seem so, sire.” Crowley’s gaze drifted back to Lars, amusement creeping across his features as more Brides circled around the man excitedly. 

 

—— 

Her hands are steady, strong as she brushes blood away from Lita’s eyes. “Keep your eyes closed. Demon blood is dangerous if it makes contact with the human eye.” 

Lita can only grunt uncomfortably, wrinkling her nose a little. She tries to keep her eyes screwed shut as Rima works. Soft fabric moves cross the skin now. “I did not expect that demon to... burst.” 

“They tend to do that, if what my foremothers said on the topic is correct.” Lita can feel the fabric leave her face, she resists her urge to open her eyes simply listening. Before long it comes back, wet this time. Lita has a brief surprised intake of breath at the sudden chill. 

“Stay still.” Rima warns lowly, unapologetic as she works. “I need your eyes to be safe.”

“I need them to see, so I can’t argue with that.” Lita agrees trying to not squirm under the careful attention. 

“I need to be able to meet your eye, see the fire burn brightly behind them. See your smile reflected back in it.” 

The surprising sentiment startles a laugh from Lita. The blonde is fairly sure she’s blushing at this point from Rima’s words. “I never- you’re quite the romantic.” 

“I love to surprise.” The two fall into a comfortable enough silence from there. Lita simply turns Rima’s words over in her head, feeling odd. She wishes Lars was still here so she could talk with him about this. He always knew what to say, what to do. Lita for her part felt… helpless. 

She wishes Eddie was here too, maybe. She drops the thought soon as it comes. It is better not to dwell. 

“There.” Rima’s hands fall away, as does the fabric. “Now you can open your eyes.” 

Lita hesitates before following the other woman’s directions, blinking slowly. She winces a little, “Everything is… so bright.” Rima simply laughs at the other woman’s words. 

“Give your eyes time to adjust.” She reaches out to cup Lita’s cheek in her hand, leaning in to kiss her. Lita is more than happy to oblige. It isn’t long before the two find themselves wrapped up in each other across Lita’s bed. Rima’s lips pressing against the hollow of her throat, Lita’s hands untying what loops and belts keep Rima’s clothes on. Rima’s hands are just as eager, tugging at the blonde woman’s belt, unbuckling it effortlessly. Fingers drift downwards and earn a pleased sound from Lita. Lita bites down at her bottom lip, rocking her hips forward. 

Things are dampened soon enough when the tent flap opens. “Boss- woah, woah okay!” Mangus backs off as soon as he sees what’s happen. “I’ll come back later!” 

“Mangus!” Lita yells back, turning bright red as Rima laughs. The blonde swore loudly to herself, awkwardly trying to sit up as Rima rolled away. Even with half her gear off, she is as agile as ever. Lita wonders how she manages it. 

“I’ve never seen him run quite so fast.” Rima muses, unbothered by her current nudity level. Not that nudity ever seemed bothered her. “Quite a fast man for one with a loud voice.” 

“I need to- see what he wants.” Lita manages awkwardly re-buckling her pants and adjusting her clothing. “Stay here. I’m not done with you.” 

“I should hope not.” Rima continues to lounge casually where she lay, looking more like a smug jungle cat than a woman fresh from battle. Lita tries not to think on it too long as she heads out of her tent to track Mangus down. She grabs her weapon on the way out, purely out of paranoia at this point. 

Unsurprisingly the man is hiding in the bus. Lita raps at the door impatiently. “Mangus! Open up immediately!” The door opens slightly, Mangus awkwardly peering out. “Look, I’m sorry about the whole… interrupting thing. For reals. I didn’t mean-“ 

Lita waved the topic off, reaching out to yank the door open fully. Mangus gives an awkward squeak in turn as Lita stepped forward. “Tell me what you wanted to say earlier.” 

“Right-“ He scratched at his cheek uncertainly, obviously avoiding her gaze. Lita frowns a little in turn, already not fond of whatever the news was given his hesitation. “Its… kinda bad news.” 

“Regarding our current progress-?” 

“No, I mean-“ Mangus openly winces now, shrinking into himself. Lita could already tell she wasn’t going to enjoy the news if Mangus was preparing for a bad response. “Someone or something kinda stole Lars…?”

Lita nearly drops her halberd, the air knocked out of her with one sentence. “Stole Lars?” She repeated slowly. Her heart felt so heavy all over again. 

“Yeah, a… patrol went back to grab supplies, and it looks like some weird animal dug Lars up.” Mangus winces openly now, “I’m sorry. We’re trying to find him. We just found like, loose bits of skin, and his grave all broken.” 

Lita stares at Mangus, taking a few steps back away from the man. Her feet are planted firmly in the grass underfoot now as she starts to quake slightly. The world feels like it dropped out of under her, leaving the blonde in a void.

She can only scream. She’s past anguish at this point. Now it is all rage. Mangus just stares dumbfounded as Lita takes swings at the air, shaking bodily. Other denizens of the camp stare at the display, equally as shocked silent. Lita doesn’t cry as much as she howls. The noise she releases is beastly, unhinged, frightening to those within range.  
No one is sure what to do as Lita strikes out at the air continually. 

Just as quickly Rima and other Zaulia appear. Rima’s expression is grim as she steps forward. She takes the weapon from Lita’s hand, handing it to Zaulia before stepping forward fearlessly. Without a word she wraps Lita in a gentle embrace. The blonde woman doesn’t struggle or attack Rima, simply dissolving into tears. She clings to the Zaulia Queen desperately, whispering her brother’s name repeatedly. The rest of the camp cautiously start to step forward. The whole scene surreal given the lack of context, given lack of knowledge of what happened to Lars. 

Shockingly a Zaulia who isn’t Rima speaks, a dark skinned woman with black hair holding Lita’s halberd in her grasp. Her voice is steady, loud. “Find Lars Halford’s body. He has been defiled.” Shock ripples through the crowd. “Protect the King of Ironheade even in death.” 

Outrage spreads rapidly, honest adoration for Lars turning into something poisonous now that the man has been hurt even in death. 

“Protect Lars!” 

“Someone hurt Lars body?!”

“They dug him up!”

“Who did this!?”

“Those fucking demons!”


	10. I don't know what all this is for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions and emotional turmoil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOU NERDs
> 
> I haven't forgotten this fic. Hold your butts.

Seeing the dug up grave was no better than hearing about it. Lita wanted to scream, but restrained herself. She simply crossed her arms over her chest, eyes focused on the hole. 

“Think it’s an animal that did this?” Mangus questioned with a quirk of his brow, crouching down to investigate the hole closer. The best any of them could tell Lars was yanked up fairly undignified from the grave. If any of them had to dig him up, it would have been a lot better than this. 

“There are footprints, human footprints.” Rima commented nearby, popping up from a bush. In her wake she sent dried out leaves scattering across the snowy ground. “I cannot find any animal tracks nearby the grave as fresh as these.”

“It could be any of our soldiers. They were in a panic.” Lita offered tiredly. “Even with your warriors with them, they panicked at the sight.” 

Rima gave a grunt of assent, rolling her shoulders as she rose from her crouch in the bush making her way back to where the other two were. “Even then, most have similar shoes. These are different.” 

Lita hummed quietly, “Different?”

“Sturdier material, better quality.”

“Heh, a grave robber with cool kicks.” Mangus commented with a chuckle, earning himself a look from Lita. He swallowed nervously and avoided her gaze now. 

——

There was one place Ophelia was avoiding, she knew eventually she would have to approach the sea. Eventually she would have to check for herself if Eddie was there.

She didn’t want to believe it honestly. After everything, she had hoped Eddie wouldn’t go to the sea. He could go anywhere and be safe. He was smart enough to be okay. 

Her lingering by the mines, caves, cliffs and shore lines around the sea hadn’t done much. As she drove down, Ophelia felt her heart sink somewhat. The closer she drew to the sea, the more lived in some areas looked. The sign of people was becoming more obvious.

Eddie shouldn’t be down here. 

He shouldn’t. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened considerably. Her walkie talkie crackling from the passenger seat broke Ophelia from her thoughts. The brunette slowed the car to a stop, nervously parking the car so she could pluck the walkie talkie up. 

She held down the button to speak, releasing it when she was done. “Ophelia speaking. Mangus what’s going on?”

“Its Kill Master.” The somewhat gruffer man offered back, “We got a bit of a situation on our hands. Figured I oughta tell ya.”

Ophelia’s breath caught in her throat, her mind whirring on horrible possibilities. “…What is it?”

“Something dug up Lars. Lita’s completely cracked, so we’re gonna need your ass back here.” 

This wasn’t the horrible she expected, but still fairly awful. “What-!? Do you know what happened?”

“If I did luv, I’d be giving you more than this.” Kill Master if anything was blunt. “Right now we’re stalled out and Lita ain’t gonna be back on her feet anytime soon. I’m calling you against her wishes since we need someone to be leader.” 

“Fuck. Okay. I- let me finish this and I’ll come back.” Ophelia scrubbed at her face with her free hand, mind racing now. 

“Be seeing you soon then.” With that Kill Master finished the ‘call’, before Ophelia could really ask anything else. “Ugh.” So much for asking where Mangus was.

——

The drive back felt long, felt like Ophelia was losing time. Losing _so_ much time. Eddie needed her. 

But so did Ironheade. She couldn’t leave them. Not now, not like this. Somehow Ironheade had chosen her, just this once. ~~after everything they had finally chosen her.~~

Ophelia hadn’t realized she was crying until she came to a stop in the jungles, confused by the way her vision had blurred over. She reached upwards to brush her fingers across her eyes carefully. The water on her fingers surprised the woman. She blinked rapidly, tears rolling down her cheeks now. Her bottom lip trembled as she haphazardly put the car into park, scrubbing at her face with her hands. 

“Lars. Oh… Lars.” 

Lars would have chosen her. 

Eddie would have chosen her too. If she had just told him earlier, if she had said anything. Guilt rolls through Ophelia, bringing the brunette to a standstill as she cries into her hands. 

_Why did they pick her?_

_She didn’t deserve it._

_They should have picked Eddie over her._

_Lita shouldn't have made them pick at all. They were supposed to be an army._

“Just like mom and dad.” She laughed weakly to herself, shaking where she sat. “I’m a failure through and through.” Everything she had fought for, it was all for nothing at this point. What a farce.

She had fought to be accepted. 

She had fought for people's freedom.

She had fought for love.

She fought for safety and security. 

Yet... at best she achieved maybe one of her goals. The man she had been in love with for years, Lars, was gone. The man she loved now, Eddie, was gone. If she hadn't defended herself against Eddie's accusation she would be reviled by everyone in camp. She would be as hated as he is now. It could have been so easily _her_ instead of Eddie. She can only imagine Ironheade turning their backs on her.

Tears dribbled down her cheek as she pressed her forehead against the steering wheel. 

"Why?" 

" _Why?_ " She cried, "Why did this have to happen!?" All the denial of Lars death, the denial of Eddie's fate sunk in heavily, feeling like an anchor dragging the woman further down. 

\----

For once the sea was busied, various troops hustling by with building supplies attempting to put together some sort of structure. With some shoo-ing Crowley had sent Eddie off to sit by the seaside. The drowned man couldn’t protest too much, he knew a dip in the sea would perk him up. 

For now he would content himself with watching progress on various homes for the Doom. Lars slinking over looking guilty was enough to tell Eddie he had been shooed away by Crowley as well. The two men nodded at each other in greeting before Lars settled down next to his friend on the sand. 

The two fell into an easy enough silence, watching the harried work and enjoying the chilly weather. 

“Are we truly at war, Edward?” 

The question took the undead man off guard. Eddie looked over at his companion, his expression softening somewhat at Lars. Even now he felt relaxed with Lars around. He could take time for himself with Lars here. 

“Yes. I’m just building up an army now.” He leaned his cheek into his hand, smiling at the other man openly. 

“Ah, just like good times.” The blonde man answered with an easy laugh, going nostalgic in the moment. “Remember how we freed the boys?” 

Now it was Eddie’s turn to chuckle. “I do. It feels like… forever ago.” 

“I wonder what happened to them.” 

“They kicked me out of Ironheade.” Eddie stated cooly, his warmth draining immediately. Any brief touch of nostalgia dropped when he looked out over the sea, when he looked at himself. Lars paused at that, shocked, “They- how could they!?” 

“Everyone turned on me, Lars. They left you in the snow to rot. They didn’t want us after we stopped being useful. Once I stopped being good for them, they left me here to die.” 

Lars stared at the ground in open shock. “I- gods. I can’t believe it.” The ex-King of mankind was clearly reeling from this bit of news. 

“If it wasn’t true, I’d still be with them.” Eddie reached out to gently rest a hand against Lars arm. “I wouldn’t abandon them.” 

“I know, my friend. I know…” 

“I don’t want to hurt them, but I gotta.” 

The blonde man frowned back. “Must you?” 

“They want a monster, Lars, I’m gonna give it to them.” Lars didn’t seem all that convinced, but exhaled slowly, still listening to Eddie. The roadie hated to hurt his friend like this, but he had to give him the truth. “Who am I to say no when they chased me out? When they threw me away? When they left you for animals to fuckin’ eat? I can’t let stand.” 

“I’ll trust your judgement on this my friend, but it feels… wrong.” 

“I know, Lars. I hate this shit, but- they would hate us on sight, man. They’d kill both of us with no hesitation.” He squeezed the other man’s arm gently. Lars turned into the touch, moving closer to the roadie now. “I’m sorry.” 

“You didn’t cause this Edward.” He answered softly back, clearly heartbroken in a new way. A way that made Eddie want to cry. A way that made Ateulia want to cry. “I can only imagine how Lita is doing… Much less Ophelia. Grieving but also… repulsed by us. Gods, what can we do…” 

“I’m gonna build up the army, if… Ironheade don’t bug us, we’ll back off.” Eddie would relent on his plans if it made Lars happy. Only for Lars.

The blonde man smiled weakly at that, “Thank you.”


	11. Keep coming at me with your disrespect

Tears had turned into sleep. At some point, Ophelia had sunk back into the driver's seat of the Druid Plow and dozed off. A boneless tired kind of sleep that came from intense crying. Crying that turned into pure exhaustion. 

A kind of sleep Ophelia hadn’t had in at least a year or so. She realizes as much when she awakens, groggy and rubbing at her tender eyes. 

“Fuck.” 

Some part of her feels… better. The rest of her feels worse. Ophelia staggers out of the Druid plow, taking a moment to sit on the more solid ground for a moment and stare up at the sky. 

Once she feels less like a wreck nearly an hour later she rises, grabbing her swords from the car and going to hunt whatever is nearby. A meal wouldn’t hurt now. She needs to eat _something_ before the jagged edge of tiredness cuts at her again. 

She manages to eat a meager meal of a steel quilled urchin (well what meat she can pick off between the quills) and gets back to the car. She washes the blood off with some water from her flask, trying to vaguely not look like she just ate a raw animal. 

She needs to get back to Ironheade. The thought makes her unsettled, but- she had to do this. 

They needed her. Ophelia didn’t want to let anyone else down. 

Her thoughts are derailed when a shadow passes overhead. The brunette pauses, glancing up, unsure just what she saw. Her mind snaps to Eddie, realization _he_ could have flown over head sets her back in motion. 

Camp is briefly forgotten in favor of driving. She follows the direction the shadow went, towards the sea. 

She wants to call out, but finds herself unable to as she drives, deeper into the fog. Her car taking her through the fog, into the dry ice mines. She’s forced to park as the fog thickens, blanketing the landscape enough Ophelia can’t parse out where the hell she is. The brunette swears, scrambling out of her car. She grabs her weapons on impulse. 

“Eddie?” Her voice returns, weaker than she intends, anxious. “Eddie! I’m here! Are you here?” 

Eddie’s laughter bounces off of the landscape, the wrongness of it- sets Ophelia on edge. She walks forward through the fog, lips drawn tight into an uncertain frown. 

She only stops when a terrible smell hits her nose. Her eyes land upon a figure she wished to see, only to find… everything so very wrong with him. 

Her knuckles tightened around the hilt of her sword as she grit her teeth. The steadiness of the sword's hilt kept her hands from shaking. He smelled sickly sweet, nauseating mixture of flowers and rotten flesh. 

“Eddie.”

“Ophs.” He smiled, a smile too wide, too disjointed. “You’re lookin’ good.”

“I can’t say the same for you.” She brought one of her blades up defensively, she needed some kind of divider between them. “What happened?” Panic makes her heart hammer against her chest. He would never- he would never throw himself into the sea? 

Would he? 

The wrongness of it all keeps her locked in place.

“I think you can guess, babe.” His smile didn’t falter, didn’t fade as he held her gaze. The warmth he naturally radiated was gone, in its place was a constant chill. A specter of someone she knew being puppeted through the veil of death. His movements were unnatural, jerky, broken. An imitation of life. 

His skin was a sickly blue color. An inky cloak hung off of his shoulders, dragging along behind him as he walked, swallowing up anything loose on the ground it touched. It blended in with the black inky jeans he wore.

Half of his torso was missing, revealing stained bones. His spine sat out in the open air, a drapery of blackened organs hanging loosely half hidden by what was left of his torso. Part of his chest was pinned open, revealing his ribcage. Oddly she couldn’t see his heart. “It ain’t rocket science, y’know.” He wore the visage of the sea, black ink flowing across his body, swirling around him possessively.

Ophelia hated the fact she could hear the sea. She could hear it. The endless whispers. Distantly she could hear her parents voices in the clamor of sound. 

“Can you hear them?” Eddie quirked a brow, at the way she jerked back in surprise. She scowled sharply back at Eddie, taking a step back to try and put some space between them. “I- No.“ 

“You can.” He took a step forward, clearly unafraid to invade her space. “You can hear them. What are they tellin’ you?” 

“I can hear you being an idiot. That’s about it.” Her words earned a huff from the larger man. “Real fuckin’ rude, babe. I just was askin’.”

“Eddie, how-?” He wouldn’t have gone to the sea? He couldn’t have. He was too resourceful. He was so much stronger than she ever was. 

“I decided to take a bit of a dunk into the sea.” He made a lazy slam dunk gesture with a clawed hand. “Y’know, I never really liked big bodies of water, but, I made an exception this time.” 

“Why?” Her voice came out so much smaller than she wanted it to. 

“Why the fuck do you think?!” He exploded from casual to enraged in a moment’s notice, the black cloak of the sea expanded behind him wildly clawing at the air. Ophelia had to stumble out of the way to avoid being knocked over by it. The tendrils knocked over an unfortunate set of grave stones nearby. “You did this!”

“I- you know I didn’t mean to!” She bit out angrily back, falling into a defensive fighting stance. Ophelia wasn’t sure if he’d rush at her at this point. “You know I didn’t intend for it to happen! I didn’t want you to be thrown out!” Her words back then had come out in a rush, an emotional rush, frustration and doubt. Lita’s reaction set of a chain reaction none of them could take back.

“You did! You could have told me any fuckin’ time! But you waited till the last fuckin’ second!” Even with all his rage he didn’t continue after her, rooted in place. “You had so much time, but you waited till Lars-“ He choked, sinking onto the ground, the cloak wrapping around himself.

Ophelia didn’t move, not quite sure just where Eddie would swing to next emotionally. Mention of Lars only made her heart ache further. Guilt she carried for losing both Lars and Eddie in the same day making her feel so, so, so, tired. “Eddie…”

He shot up from the ground, cloak turning into black inky demonic wings. “Fuck you!” He roared back at her, a maniacal grin breaking the skin around his mouth. “I can’t believe after everythin’ I did, you fucked me like this! Trust me, Ophelia, it ain’t over.”

“I figured it wasn’t.” Ophelia managed, feeling her stomach sink. He didn’t linger long, rocketing off into the air, sprinkling the landscape in droplets of the sea. Ophelia slowly sat down on the ground for a moment trying to slow her breathing. She could only place her head between her knees, attempting to not hyperventilate. 

The attempt fails and her breathing intensifies, heart hammering sharply against her ribs. Guilt pours over her, dragging her onto the sandy ground. Ophelia starts shaking, unable to stop. Exhaustion from crying earlier only amplifies the panic and fear coursing through her. 

She can’t even cry now, but she breaths unevenly and her teeth clatter together. 

—— 

The ride back to the camp on the plains felt horribly long. Lita hated to admit, but she had used it to grieve again. She took comfort from Rima in the back of the bus, crying over the unfairness of it all. 

Lars deserved so much better. Her brother didn’t deserve any of this. Who or what would dig him up?

The thought lingered in the back of her mind as she settled back into camp, giving updates, trying to settle back into leading instead of just grieving. It would be so easy to just grieve and keep grieving, but her people need her. That much motivates Lita to get up, to move forward the best she can.

She gives herself a day before she calls a meeting behind the tour bus, away from prying ears and eyes. The less of an audience, the less anxious she’ll feel. 

Lita winced, polishing off the rest of her beer before throwing the emptied bottle aside, uncaring where it landed. She turned away from the shattered glass to look over everyone present. Rima was the only one to hold her gaze without flinching. 

“What has happened to my brother is… horrendous, but we must push on-“ 

“Psh, save the speech.” Fire Baron jumped in, pointing at the blonde woman, “No inspirational speeches here, just tell us what we’re doing.” He gave a pained nose as Kill Master buried his elbow in Fire Baron’s side. “Have some god damn compassion you, lout.” 

“I do, but she was starting-“ He gets another elbow for his troubles. Mangus openly sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in agitation. 

“Please continue, Lita.” Rima encourages simply, ignoring the men cooly disinterested in them. 

Lita manages to take a slow breath, calming herself. “We’ll continue fighting the demons. I’ll- have a few people assigned to find out where my brother’s body has gone, but we cannot be derailed.” She seems almost reluctant to say as much. “I want to know what happened, but, leaving will only lose us what land we’ve regained.” 

“What we gonna do about ms. no show sally?” Fire Baron pipes up, earning looks from Mangus and Kill Master for his efforts. 

Lita sighed, “She’s… she’ll return.” Before all of this she would have turned Ophelia way so readily, but Lita feels too damned tired to continue with any of this. Carrying the grudge now felt... almost childish.

"That's it? You're not worried?" A woman's voice from nearby startles the group as a Razor Girl walks over. The young woman frowns at the collection of rebellion unit leaders before her gaze focuses back on Lita. "This isn't like her. _We're_ worried about her." The Razor Girls if anything were ones who noticed Ophelia missing quite a bit. 

The blonde sighed a little, forcing herself to stand tall. "Ophelia can handle herself. I've had my doubts about her in the past, but if anything is true, Ophelia is strong, loyal and will always find a way back to us."

Lita run a hand through her hair tiredly, "I believe in her."

\---

She isn’t quite sure how long she sat there, curled into herself- but the crackling of the walkie-talkie from the car further off is what pulls Ophelia up from emptiness. Everything hurts and her exhaustion from earlier weighs so much more heavily upon her. 

She feels almost boneless as she moves back in the direction of the car. She fumbles to grab the walkie-talkie, just finding herself leaning heavily into the car door. 

“This, is bad.” She muses aloud. “Very bad.” 

What an understatement. 

She manages to force herself up, grabbing the walkie-talkie. She looks at it, before dropping it in the passenger seat wordlessly. The brunette manages to get into the driver's seat, turning the car towards the sea.

“I’m coming for you, Eddie.” 

Ironheade can wait. 

She owed Eddie even if he hated her guts now. She couldn’t just leave him here alone suffering like this. 

Her driving is erratic, a little crazed after two crying jags and a panic attack so close together, but Ophelia refuses to stop. 

Eddie needs her. 

She won’t let him down again. As she draws nearer, her mind buzzes with a low voice, something almost unintelligible and _painful_.  
.  
.  
T̵̨̖̬̦̱̺̐̈̽̆͑̊̐͛͝h̡̡̛͍̮̟̺͇̻͎̾͂͆̊̅̈́̚͝r̖̥̱̦̮̣̞̣͕̅̀̏̄̇͡͠ó̡̢̢̱̪̝̍̿͊̌̀͘͢͡͠ŭ̙̟̺͓̦͈̱̽͌͊̌͟ģ̴̛̮̮̪͕̦̮̳̂̆̀͋̾̐h̷̡̢̗͚͖̭͍̼̑̉̿̂͑̆̚͝ t̶̢̢̜͔͔̼̮̮̙̞̅̎̆͗͝͠h̡̩͕̦͓̼̣̫̎̀̄̾͋͋̔͑͘̕͢e̪͍̩̼̭̭̱͆̍̎͌̓ s̺͍̗̱͙̞͇̫͉̄̃͊̐̎ḳ̱̼̙̬͚͖̝̓͌̔̋͗̚͢͟y͚͉̮͍͚͙̓̈̋̀̓͘͜͡͡͝ ṫ̞̻͖͕͖̥͊͂͋̊̈́̃h̵̨̳͉̼͓̅͐͗̔͒͌̆̕͡ͅe̷̛̛̖͖̝̯̖̮͈̱͛̆͛ b̷̧̳̼̩̳̐̾͆̉̾̒̍͛́o̶͍̰̹͖̠̦̻͂̋͘͢͡͠y̴̪̻̪̜̮̹̅̓͑́͗͠ f̴̢̩̦͙̠̅̎̅͆͑͝͡ĕ̷͈̠̖̗͈͓̼̱͓͙̓̍̋̈͒̿̌̿ļ̼̤̥̖̞̄͆̄͊̿͛̄͌̚l̛̬͍̦̟̲̟͌̈́͛̄͑͐̚̕͢ ṵ̰͙͖̲͇͈̏̎̄̏̂͒͘͢ͅṗ̛̛̳̗̻̫̠͛̒͒̏̑͗͝ơ͉̲̼̱̝̘̍͒̃̓̌̋̄̀͗ṇ̶̼̭͔͇̭̭̰͖̅̓̾̑͌̚͘ͅ m̸̼̲͎͓͍̻̤̱̳͗̿̉͋̐̂̊̚y̝̻̜̳̣̯͚͛̽̑̾̎̚ s͈̪̩̗̳͍̤͂̏̿̈́̃̎̑͡h̨̧̲̣̤͈̙͒͑͛̉͐̾̄̀͜͡o̻̮̖͍̓́͂͢͢͝͞͞r̬̯̭̟̜̞̬̈̽͒̅̔́̓͒́̔ḙ̶̲̲̯̞̥̲̓̔͆̈́̿̄ͅs̵̹̰̠̦̆̈̒͋̒͢,̷̡̻͎̝̱̙͍̜̂̔̿̈͑͞  
̶̨͇̜̰̖̥̺̫̰̼̏̔͌̋͘

 

S̷̖̮̣̱̱̱̪̯̽̎̇̔̊͜͜o̧͕̣̖̟̻̖̩̣̹̊̽͋̈͠m̶̛̜͉̟̥͛̿͂͘ͅȩ̴̠̳͖̮͇̻̠̦̔̂͌͡ͅt̷̛̼͓̻͇̜̗͋͌͌̍̄̌̀̀̚h̥͎̰̭̞́͒̍̑̕͜i̞͖̣̼̟̱̽̔̂̄͜ͅṇ̸̡̺̝̪̏̿̎̂́͗̄̚͟g̢̛̬̪̙̟̞̓̏͂̈́͑͟ b̢̟̭͇̬̈́͒͊̐͐̽̍ŗ̷̨̥̹̥͇̠̬̘͖͋̏͐̍̉̓̓o̸͚̤͖̰̩̪̰̳͎̞̿̓̆̀͆͆͂k̸̛̫̰̮͎̳̾̎̌͛͗̒e̢̲͎̟̘̝͉̿͋̂̐͐̅̂͘ṉ̶̨̞̹͖̰̃͑̔̒̅̓̃͗͞͡ i͙͇̙̫̥̝͌͑̆̏̒n̸̡̝̺̤̜̮̏̈̔̎͐̊ h̟͙̰̬̹̙̞̹͋̊̓͑̈́̒͜͝i̶̺̫̟̱͚̻̲͇̻̙̐̒́̓̚͞͡͠s̡̮͚͚̤̋̅̆̉͋̋̄̈͘͟͝ c̨̢̯͔̦̥͔̯̈̆͆͒̃̚͡͡h̸̢̛̫͙̙̗͈̭͍̽̿̎̊͘͢͜e̢̻̘̞̞̱̩͙͓̽̽̏͂̕͘͠s̡̪͕̜̩̟̼̙̯̘͌̅̌̍̈̄̑̔̐͋ť̛͔̠̭̱͕̈́͆̄̂̓͊,̭̤͎̣̤̝͎͑̓͒̉̾̍͜͜͝͞

̴̛̠̜̙̪͍̑̓́̾͘͡

 

H̴̢̛̘̤̝̯̩̐̌̾̔̓͛̂̔͜͞ȩ̸̤̬̯̬̹͇̥̿̽͌̈́̒͒̍̚͢͝͡ ḍ̢̟̘̟̮͒̈͌͊̊̓͟͞͞͡a̡̛͙͕̭̖̥̜̯͚̓͊̉̾͊̚͞͝r͕̞̬͚̭̹̐̉̇̌͊̋͆̽͜e̸͍̳̫͎̣̞̯̣̰̍̈́͌̃͑͜d̨̫̝͙̫̼̘̏̔̊̃̅̑̂ t̪̳̞̗̟̹͙̀͆̍̍͆͘ͅo̵̻̰̼̟̮̙̭͋̐̆͆͘͜ͅ l̡̨̡̛͍̞̿͗͊̅̽͑ǒ̺̜͓̤̱̇̃̏̒v̝̥̜͙̗̙̌͆̎̍͛̕ͅḛ̴̢̟̭̙̳̗̿͒̓̈́̀̿ ẳ̗̘̗̗̝̝̰̉̆͞ņ̭̺̻̟̱͓͗̇̊̋͂́̕͢o̧͎̠͙̠̼͆̍̋̄͐͌͜͜͡t̟͎̪͖̠͔͙͈̓̾̒̇͠h̶̬͚̹̮̳̪͓͒̌̇̄̃̓̚͜͞ę̴̢̙̣̣̺̤̏̅̆̄̄̂͒r̘̣̪̣̤̹̠̗̳̐́̾́͠,̶̼̺̪̰̻̗͈̪̏͊͑̓͌͘͘  
̛̜͎͖͚̭̻͓͙̬̺̅̀͊̒̾̉

 

A̵̢̨̨̟͍͓̣̝̗̫͗̎̈̏l̡̺̬͙͎̒̂̀̾̚ȁ̳͉̯͉̯͖̎̈́͆̎̓̚̕͞s̸̨͎̤̄̉̃̑̕͠ͅͅ,̸̮͓̬̦̘͓͑̆̈͋͑ n̴̞͚̤̱̮̻̼͉͎̍̄͑̇͊̽͛͞ǫ̴̛͎̥̰͚̺̦̹̪̑̀̄̋̃̃̿̚ b̴̫̣̖̼͎͓͗͋̀͆͑̈͘̕͞ḛ̵̡̭̰̮̮̾̔̏̇͒́̂t̶̮̙͖͉͉̝͐̇̎͐̑̔̓̆t̷͚̺̻͕̻͍͌̆̐̊͝͞e̟͔̰̫̩̳̼̙̠̰͋͗͑͗͊͝͞r̴̤̦̙̬̫̊̾̓̆̈́̌ t̶̛͓̰̫̗̱͍̯̹͔̏͐̄̎̇̄͟ḩ̯̞͈̠̰͕̖͍̻̔͗̂̇͌̇̐a̷̛̺̫͚͈̝̞̥̪̓̈́̇̈͢n̨̰̺̭̺̤̠̤̍̐̌̇͋͐͆̉̉̉ t͎̭̦̳͕̭͑̋̿̓͌͘͝h͇͍̤͕͚̯̉̾̂̊̌͝e̻̝̮͓̮͔̯̍̄͛̌͗̍̋͂̃ r̷̡̹͔͙̦̼̝͙͒̾͆̽̚͜͟ĕ̸̪̠̯͈͍͙̱̠̹̋͂̎͋͑̒͟͠͞ṣ̡̹̻͍͕̞͊̋̏͒̆̔͟͜t̨͉͕̦̂̒̂̓̐̆̀͘̚̚ͅ,̗̝̹̟͓̣̱̥̭̙̊̀̂͊̄̿̓̓̒̕  
̵͓̫͍̗̩̯̗̗͈̮̎͌̀͐̉̀̎͞

 

U̶͍̥̝͗͆̾̇͂̇͊̿͜͢p͉̩̺̯̬̯̠̣̿̑̃͋͊͋ t̛̫̞͚̗̝̻̖̬͌̏̔̌͐͐͜h̡̢̹̙̺̼̩̓̉͛́̒͆e̴̡̨̘̹̟̻̳͖̳̓̍͊̾̏͐̕͝ͅ p̰͎͕̺̰̀͐̐͂̆͊͟a͉̘̜̯͉͖̭̾͗̋̓̿̄̓̏t̵̹̫̤̟̐̇̌̒̿̒̚͟h̴̢͔̻̭̻̉̓̂͐͡͞ ț̼͔͕̲̞͗͌̑̅̑͊̂͠h̡͉̭̼̼̯̖͔̤͂͗̌͌͠e͎͙̫̠̖̦̯̓̂̉͑̊̚͜͟͢͡ b̸̡̨̙̝̝͚̩̞̺̤̄͊̈́͐̄̃̑͞ö̡̬̪̻͙̼̮́̾͗̑̏̚̚̕͟͞y̴̝͈͖͍̪̗̽̾̅͛̈́̍̿̏͆̚ c̷̛̛̗͓͙̥͎͔͚͛̊͞r̸̡̛̮͉͚̟͉̯̥̬͆̌͒̕͘͟ā̡͔̫͕̤̠͎̣̾̀͂̈̋̀͜ͅw̜̲͚̞̞̿͗̏͌͒̕͟͡l̡̧̯̗̤̗̫̟̍̒͋̆͆͞ę̶̛̫̲͍̗͎̗̗̃̅̈́͑̋̚͜͠d̢̪̦̣̲̗͈͎̉̔̋͗̚͟͡ ẉ̵̢̛͓̲͈̞̻̫͐͒͋̌̔̉͡ͅe̵̢̥̠͔͔̔̆̿̈́̆̚͟͠ạ̴̢̢̖̮͓̤̉͋̿͠k̫͙̥̪̘͉͈̳̾̃̏͊͌͑l̷̡̻͙̼̳̮͒̾͆̄͘͞y̴̢̘̝̞̩̰̟̗̾̿̂̓̒̌̈͗͡,̬̥̖͉̙̇̀̊̽̏̀͟͢͞͠͡  
̸̱̝̟̥̥̓̓̅̂̌͛̋͠

 

Ŝ̨͍͕̣̙̮͐̐̑̏ó̶͙̦͕̦̭̝͈͑̿̍̎̆͆̕m̴̨̟͓͔̩̟̻͈̭͆̈́̐͑̈́ę̶̢̟̙̘͍̦̻̈̑̃̋͊͂̌͐ț̦̻͖̣̪͂̀͂͆̆ͅh̨̼̫̺̞̽͐͌͊̑͘͠i̴̲͔̣̫̞̟̋͑̌͗̓͡͡n̵̥̼͙̘̟̙̦̏̇̑̽̂͊̆͆̒̚ģ̶̥̺̥͓͕͒̽̃͑̒̿̇ o̢̢͖̬̱̦̙̥̰̘͗͛̾̏̚͡p̶̡̩̗̙̪̰̠̻̼̓̀̾͐͝e̲̳̠̥͕̒̌̑̄͠ǹ̷̡̯͉̟̮̗͉̦̱̓̑̓͂̉̕e̵͙̤̫̳͍͓̥͙̟̎̓̅͛̅̽̉͘d̸̡̤̯͎͊̄͌̀̒̚͟ ủ̶̬̜͈͕̣̪͙̾͛̕͞͠͝p̸̢̼͎̥̜̼̎̑̋̉̔́ m͉̥̙͎͗̋̀̎̔̈́͂͐̕͢͞y̸͈̦̠͔̳̜̗̟̌̍̈̏͒͐͋͒͜ d̶͎̤̗̜͊͊̓̍̇͌̓͢͡ớ͚̙̳̱̖̋͆̽͆͢͜͠o̸̗̟̙͉͔̰̠̙̽̈́͆̀̽̇͛͢͟ṙ̯͕̱̞̳͑̔͌̾̓̊͜s̸͚̣͎̼̻̗͐̈́͑͌̋̓͘̚͡,̢̧̦͖̳͖͌̌́̋̊͗̚͝  
̶͕̖̠̖͔̫̒̎̅́̆̈́̆͝

 

Ï̶̡̡̱̱̟͚͇͓̀̾͑͟͟͠ l̞͔̫̬̟̮̇͆͆̔͗̂͐̕͟͞ǫ̻̘̻͑̉͒͛̉̕ͅn̷̛͇̖̺͓͉̽̒̉̅͗̍͞g̛͎̲͉͉̟̐͌̽̾͜͟e̵̹̯̥͍̙͖̽̂͆̏̿d̲̰̩̩̙̼̼̒̒͒̃̽͡ ţ͇̱͔̌̅̔̇͐́͘͘͜ọ̸̡̯̗̺̠̠̣͈̽̎̑͊̕͠ͅ s̪͚̫̫͐͛̓̔̎̆̿͘͟ţ̨̞̟̰͔̹̥̣̱̎̐̐̅̆̇̇̕o͉̦̞͖͕̿̿̌̂̓̉̊͗͘͟͢͡p̨̨̪͚͓̰̂͒̍̔̀̆͛͛͘ h̩̜̗͇͙͎̬͒̐̈̎͊͊̊̌͝i̧̨̢̜͍̬͉͐͗͂͆̒͠͡s̶͍̩͕̥̹̼̙̞̈͐̌͊̽̆̃̋͟ͅ b̭̥͕͍̝͓̝̞̰̊̔͛̏͞ͅl̛̺͇̥͙̼̲͍̝͐̏̓̔̋͛͜͝e̵͈̠̤̟̫͑̑͛̂̑̈́̋͢͡͞e̵̗̟̲͎͖̬̺͐̽͒̽́̐̃̚̚ḑ̵͉͖̣̬̺̈́͌̿̑͑̿̚͞i̶͎̙̳̬͐̂͒̇͟͡͠n̷͙͉͓̝̗͓̉̽̔͗̐͑̕g̶̱̹̻͎͍̹̖̞̃͌̏̓͢͝ h̶͎̼̱̰͇̙̊͊͛͐̂͋͜͢͡͡e̸̡̨̲̩̺̙̳̘͓͛͆͌̊̊̃̎͟͡͠͡a͇̜͉̱͈̦̝̔̊̐͂̉̂̐͠ŗ̸͖͈̼̘͇̝͊̋̔̌̋̓̕͢t̨̩͈̱̖̺̮̪͔͐͋͂̆̈́̚͡͡,̸̲̺̟̣̳̙̩͒̓͒̓͑͢  
̷̛͍̲̲̻͍̓̃̋͗̾̓͒͢͟͝

 

S̷̨̧̼̠͖̦̱̗͆́̓̓̾o̴̢̢̬̰̥͇̞͈͙̎̄̈̎̅̚͟ I̴̢̺̺̦̠͈͔̎̈́͑́͂͋̀͜ ḩ̵͇̭̼̠̫̖̼̙̱̈́̃͊̓̓͒́̊̑͘ȩ̸̢̼̖̩̰̿́̽̊́̕͜͟͡ͅĺ̢̟̪̠̟͚͎̣̍̈́̈́̅͊̐̅͠d̴̫̹͚̞̬͔̫̰̀͆͋̔̔̋̈́͝ ḩ̣̟͓̗̼̥̯̈́̾̍̉̃͡i̶͎̹̘̻̹̣̊̈̊́̍̎̾͝ͅm͙̺̪̣̞̬̄̍̒͊̌́̋̚ c̵̡̯̲̣̹͇͍͖̓̈̂̒̊l̢̥̺̲̭͓̓̀̉̏̓̏͝͝ö̴̢̗͕͇͕̩̫̪͉̘́̈̃͑͒͝s̴̬̱̬̥̼̟̙̉̓̃̌̈́̓̉͡e̵̼͓͙̫̙̺̠̪̯͍̾̽̓̊̉͛͝͠ i̸̢͈̦͓͚̬͚͑̊̍͒̒̇̇̓̚͘ͅn̸̥̹͇͕͔̄̇͑̐̾̽́̓̂͜͡ͅͅ m̺͕̩͎̭̝͑̊́͛͛̂̚͞ỷ̶̢̨̝͉̣͔͓̭͉̽͌̋͋͆̓̃̓͡ͅ w̡̛͚͚͖͐̂̄̍̇͗̓̍͢͟͞ͅa̴̙̯̫̦̭͇̩̝̦͎̔̍͆̑̌̓́̈̒͠t̸̩͈͓͈̞̞̥̎́̌́͠͠é̖̙̻̰̈́̈͐̂͒̕̕̚̕ͅŗ̛̞̟̭͂͗̄̅͢ş̶͕̖̳̤̼̺̥͛̑͂͑̈̔͒̑͡,̷̢̮̣̳̗̤̱̖̲̳̍̋̓̌̕  
̼̬̰̞̞̭̌́̔͛͡

 

T̴̢͓̤͉̗̼͈̃͗̉͐͛̋̌͂͠ĥ̨̧̦̬̠̣͕͋̔͆͌̓̉̆͞o̡̥̠͍̦̠̳̮̐͋̔̽͑͟s̨̘͉̤͉̟̼͈̓͗̆́̍̌̿͂͜͠e̘̻̰͓͔͗̽͐̒͗͗͜͠ y̨̲̞̯̻̲͌͌̿̄͗̆̌ơ̡̮̗̺̲̲̩̮̿͂́̿ủ̼̥̤̼̤̞͈̓͐̽̇͌̽̚ t̸̫͇͍̺̱̘̥͑͊̍̇͟͝ŗ̼̯̬̤̭̣͂͑̑̍̿̏̆̐̎͠ú̡̺͕͚̩͆̾͋̌̌̚͟͝s̶̛̺͈͉̤͕̒̽̐t̛͕̼̳͎̱̿͑̌̃́̐̾͘͟ w̖̯͈̣̘̎̈́͌̽̑̑́̀į̣͉͔͎̯̹̤̱̉̆̏̈̚͘͞l̸͙͎̻̹̥̰̟̲̍̒̅̃͒͗͝l̨̰̳͍̯̋̿̇̃͋̕͞ ḩ͍̻̲̻͚̙̹̠͓̋̀̈́͋͝ȕ͇̖͚̺̰͍̳͔͕͍͊̊͐̈̂̃̂͞r̷̲̮̹̼̟̫̪̦͛̏͐̓̐͠ͅt̨̧̢̙̱̤͛͗̄͂͜͢͠͡ ỳ̧͕̼̝̆̊͘͢o̴̜͍̪͎͛̔͗̐̀͗̓͘͠ͅu̥̮̙̜͈̼̓̏͐͋̍̒̊͟ b̷̡̢̯̫̻͇͖̤́̆̅͆͒͒͑̕͡ͅa̷͙͈̝̣̘͆͊̔̍͜d̹͖̥̗͙̼̘̥̍̍̌͘͟͠ļ͕͕̥̩͍̥̦̓̽͌̎̉̚͟͠y̵̡̭̳̻̦͍̥̑̄͒͛̂͝͠,̴̨̡̻͓͉̂̐͑̊͘͜

 

͖̗̜̰̤̓͗̉̅͆̀͡͝S̸̟̗̝̰̮̱̩̙͐̀͂̑̏͐̓͟͝ǫ̖̮̼̼͓̦͐̇̅̇͜͞m̴̛̙̹͈͇̼̫͖̥͒͋̒̑̍̏͋͂͗͜ͅe̶̡̛̮̲̻̪̾͊͝t̡͕͕͓̬̒͊̀͌͂̊̎h̙͈̰̩͙͚̪̱̮̃́͋̏͢͞͠ī̷̱̠̱̭̪̥̼̖̐͊͗̑͡ņ͔̝̣̞͚̯͖̮̏͆̔͂̀͘͝͝g̨̗͙̜̠͇̝̥͑̓̌̚͢͡ n̢͙̝͔̙͇͕̹̓̀̓̇͑͗̚̚͜͟͝o̧͎̘̮͖̰͉̖̫͆̽̄͞͡ẇ̶̰̤̟̝̟̽͗̕̚͜ Ĩ̛͎͎̞̝͍̒̑̓̌͗̚͡͡’̢̯̮͙̹̥̣͖͑̃̿͒͆͋͊̔͝m̥̺̦͓͔͍̱̥̮̽̽͊̓͋̅͞ s̨̡̛͈̺̻͔̣͈̠̑̋̏̃̓̋͘͝͞ų͔̜̣̪͇̞̝̝̎̉̃̀̏͘r̫͓͚͉̰͉̒̂̊͛̚͞ȩ̡̬͈̹͖̙̰̉͐̋̑̈́̓͐̉̇̚ ẙ̵̡̡̡̛̮̩̗͈̮͖̒̚͞o̷̟̼̱͉̲̯̻̲̞̗͊̈́̚͡ų̵̧̛̥̪̮̱̠̩̲̈͆̌̀̉͂̌̽͟͠ s̨̼͚̣̭̀̊͂̑̚͢͠ͅę̴̯̱̫̤̄̉̿͗͠e̸̢̛͓̲̤̳̦̔͗̍̄͌̈͑̕͢͢,̸̧̝̯̺̫̳͋͋͑̾̌͜  
̸̧̛̻̠̮͔̥̼̰̭̥͗͛̾̇̽̇̔͠

 

Ş̡̜͔͍͍̮̝͎̂̑̈́̃̈͑̄͂͘ͅò̧̭̳̮̣̯͙͌̋͂͋̓̑͆͝ d̢̩̦̥̔̿̾̃̍̍̅͛͢͝ŗ̶̖͔̼̈́̈̾̈́̍̚͜͡ö̢͓̭̥͉͙͈̑͟͝͡͞ẃ̵̙̰̮̮̬̠̪̥͚̐̇̅̈̔͑n̢̯̲̫͔̟̳̙̯̖͆̊̇̍̚ y̢̞̩̜͒͑̌̅̅͑͂̈́͞ͅo̷̭̼͈̜̞͈͇͖̬̔͗̄͝͡u̯̱͉̪̓̌̉̓̾̄͐̇͘͢͡r̶̘͔͉͖̠̣͛̎̑̄̍̀͞ ť̶̡̛̤̹̮̥͌̉̉͋̚͢e̮͕͇̥͈̤̍̓̏̍̃̐͝ȁ̻͕͕̼̟̞̗͔̀͐́͌͒̿̃͜ͅř̶̩̠̞͖̩̼͎̽̏̇̿̀͝͠s̡͍̣̯̳̐̾̑̇̕̕͠͠ i̢̗̤̥̱̳͂̃͂͌͘͜͠n̢̛̠̩̼̞̥̞̳͈̖̿̾̽̂͊̎ m̸̨̥̰̩͈̲͚͎̱̈̒̌̑̑̋̀͘e̵͇̥̤̜̹̟͊̌͆̎͛̈͟͡ͅ ḿ̭͉̟̲͇̒̎̚͘͝y̡̩̜̞͇̟̤̌̃̓́̓̕͢͞ d̢͉͚̜̤͎̣̥̽̽̿̅̉e͎͇̺̜̥̬͙̜̠͋͌̄͌̚͡ͅa̶̡̧̛̱̙̹̗̲̫̿͆̊̾̿͘̚͟͝ͅř̲̫̬̩̖̈́͛̏̋̃,̨̨̩̪̣͓͕̞̰͆͌̓͒̄͋̍ͅ  
͙̙̖̩̫̭̋͋̈̈̽͛̇̓

 

Ā̴̡̯̮̘̬̠̜͎̻̆͂͗̇͠s̶̩̝̦͎̠̄̾̂̽̕̕͢͡ ÿ̨̪͙̖̦̮́͊̂͌̎̕͘͠͠ỡ̳̟̯͉͎̰̙̦̿͂̑ư̴̝͉̠͎̹̊̏̐̇ͅͅ d̶̢͍̼̘͖̟͙̟͉̀̍͐́͐̚͠r̯̟̘͈͉̲̦̍̽̈͛͌͑͂̒̈́ͅo̵̞̻̙̹̹̐̏̋͗̚w̶͍̟̙̹͍̪̏̐́̑̽̂̕̚͘͘ņ̴̯̺͔̻̘̜͚̱̔̉̀͂͡,̴̦̠̺̹̠̹͙̮̉͒̐͐͆̓̋̈ͅ m̸̢̧̛͓̠̬̱͇͗̍̏̚͘͘͜͜͝y̸̨̨͇͎̪̥̠̤̘̾̐̽̾̀͟ d͔͓̤͇̻̭̜̓̋̏́̃̊̊̔͞ȩ̷̲̙̯̞̎̂̍̎̔̈̓̚ǎ̷͍̞̯͎͍̃͗̄͆̔r̡̪̰̪̻͍͓͗̀͆̎̎͡͠,̡̱͙̖͖̤͇̅̉̄͂͌̊͟͟͝ i̧͎͈͓̖̖̯̠̇͐̅̽̑̍͛ͅͅṉ̶̡̜̖͕̣̬̦̊̀͆͂̉̀͊ m̶̨̗̖͙̲̌͋͂̃̐ễ̷͔̠̠̩̺̯̳̏̒͆̔.̸̨̤̱̭̖̦̾͆̀̊̽̒̀̊̎͜͡  
.

 

The voice only grew louder and louder, making Ophelia swear sharply under her breath. “Shut up!” She snapped loudly at the sky, unable to pick out where the voice was coming from. 

It had to be the sea.

The closer she got, the louder voice became, more insistent. The woman’s voice repeated her words, over and over-

 

.  
T̵̘̹͍͔͉̥̊̄͆̒̈h̴̪͍̣͎̘̺͔̝̿̍̎͊͝ȑ̨̨̪̭̤̎̌̅̕̕͟ȯ̵̞̻̥̫͖̖͋͆͗̆̇͛̚̚͞ú̸̢̡̟̝̤̽͆̉͐̇̓g̘̪̗̤͕̅͂͒͌́͊̏͗ḣ̪̺̝̱̩̜̖̘̆̈́̔̏̌͘͘͢͡ t̴̯̲̗͈̭̼̜̗̽̑̓̆͋̀̔̈́͡ͅh̫̥̪͒̓͛̉̋͂͢͟e̝̙͔̩̬̅̊͐̑̾̽̊̔͛ s̷̭͈̰͍̤̹̞̫͗͆͊͊͞k͔̪̙͚͙̝͔̒̒̈̑͌͘͜ͅy̶̹͙̙͉̭͔̐͂͐̂̈́̾͊̎̅͋ t̶̗̥̭͔͖̮̝̋̆̈́͗̈́̽́͜͡ḧ̸̡̢̡͉̩͕̌̂̄̃̌ͅe̙͕̜͉̳̖͚͒͛̉̾̌̊̐̊̿ b̶̨̜̭̻͖͓̽͗͊̐̓o̴͕͚̠̻̼̿͌̍̈́̕͞ÿ̢̘͇̟̟͔̘͈̫̞̆̒̌̕͝ f̴̢̨͓͇̗͎̗̣̞̉̓̅̑̓̍͘͟ẹ̵̠̲̘̤͑͐͗͂͘l̙̞̠͎̞̳̓̍̑͐̕ͅl̵̢̻͈͔̺̖̎̓͗̐̉̇͋͟ ū̷̧̠̤͓͈̞̺̀̃̊̃̕͡ͅͅp̷̝̤̳̲̲͂͋̿͛̿̽͑͘o̵̢̡͖̜̪͇̦̬͒̉̓̍̉͐̿͘ņ̶̫͓͇͇̺̩͊̇̑̄̂̆̿̄̓ͅ m̢͇̟̥͔̩̈́͊̽͑̓̚͘͝y̢͓̱͍̩͚͗̊̽̓͘͡͠ s̵̨̻̟̏̈́̇͆̆̑͘̕͢ͅh̷̛̘͉͓̙̞͒͆̋͆͡͠ͅő̷̧͎̞̖̘͖͚̦̹̾̆͛̋̍͌̽̒͜ŗ̸̨̮̞͍͈̳͙͖́͐̑̌͒̂̚͘e̢̘̬̞̠̳̝͂̈̽̚͢s̸̺̭̘̞̠̄̍̾̈̚͡,̡̰̯͙͔͖̳͒̃͒̏̋͗̊̌̎͟  
̢̢̫̖̦̾̈́͒̇̽́̉͢͡͡  
S̵̞͓̩̖̙͌̃̋́̈̊o̢̖̜̩͉͕̪̘̗̮̊̈́́͊̾̎̊̒̕m̵̢͙̥̥͚̩͎̼̣̆̊̅̆̎̉́ͅḙ͚͈͓̘̿̇̿͛̅͐̃̇̆̕͜t̸̛̛͚̖͍̯̺͓͑̅̔͂ẖ̖͖̙̯̖̍͛̏̃͂̚͘͝i͙͔͎̪̣͎̥͉͎̊̆̕̚ͅn̢̗͕̈́̂͋̓̎̎̃͟͜͟͞g̛͍̱͓̠͍̦̝͌̎̊̃̈́̚̕ͅ b̼̩̻̖̹̤̱͂̓̅͊̅͡͝ŗ̧͖̼̤͚̪͉̝͋̏̎̕͘ö̴̝̬̘̼͚̻͓̯̑̋̓͌̉̑͘͠ḱ̶̘̹̠̗̰͚̐͒̔̌̂͢͠e͖͈̫̦̯̦̺̘̅͐̄̑̃̉̃͘n͎̫̦̪̈̓̅̄̎͒͂̄̔͗͜͢ ĭ̼͓͔̬̹͋͆̿̽̆̄̌̂͡ṉ̢̫̹̘͒̄̈͂̐͞͞ h̡͔̠̼͉̝̯̓́̾̎̈͡i̢̹͙͉̝̩͖̭̔͛̓̐̀̿͑͜͝͠͡ͅs̷̡̛͕̟̪͍͔̞̭̝̐̌̇͡ͅ ç̶̭̰̣͈̃̇͛͑͂͂͊͒͞ḩ̴̗̥̩̆͑͗͒̓̂̏̽͊͜͡e̷͍̬̞̰͓͔̲̮̋͗̄͋ş̥̹̺̙̰̙͒̏͋́̓̄̉͜͠t̸̡̡̛̫̘̭̦̰̓̈̋͊̓ͅ,̮̼͎͇͔̩̂̊͑͗͑͜  
H̨̫͕̯͙̱͖̽̅͌͋̋̎͞ȅ̵̢̘͖̭̳̊̋̍͌̃́̅̊͢͟ d̷̝̪͇̟̬̾̃̈̓̆͆͂͐͋̐â̝͚͍͉̪̮̙͓̄̾͐̏̑͐̃͞r͎̲̩̼͖̝͗̍̽͐͟͝e̷̢̞̥̲̫͉̰͆̅̚͘͡͝ḏ̨̬͚̥͉̭̊̇̽̕͜ t̶͕̫͈̟̣͂̆̈́͂̐́͘ở̧̭̮̝͓̘̻͙̀͒̃͂̕͝͞ l̵̡̯̫̺͎͂̍̆̂̈̚o̴̭̟̠̣̤̩͓͖̳͗̿̄̇̌̃̀̍̕͝ͅv̡͕͎̜͈͔̙͈͐̇̆̊̆̕͝ͅe̴̠̼̜͔̩̓͌̉̋̉ a̸̱̼̘͔̯̖̓̊̇̓̓̉̃͘͢͞n̷͈̼̳̮͋̊̓̐͛̔̏̀͟͡o̶̧̧͚̼̩̝̩̟̤̓̍̅͒͜͡t̸̢̨̰̦̰̠̰́̔̔̕h̵̜̮̲͎͈̍̄̉͠͠e̠͍̣̬͓̫̯̅͛͌̀̍̑̆͋͝ͅr̸̡͙̺͍̄̎͂͆̐̍̉̑͛͟͜͢,̶̡̨̨̣̻͇͕̦̿͆͊̾̐̌̕͘͟  
̛̺̬̤̺̠̝̦́̈̑͜  
A̵̡̻̣͎͂̒̆̑̓̈͗͘͟͝l̛̦̣͖̣̑͌̌͌͟͜͡ͅa̢͍̲͈̟̘̩̻̐̈̒͠͠͡s̤̬̯̻̮̿̎͗̐̈́͐̓͛̇͝,̮̫͇͕̰̖̞̘͚͂̄̐̕̚͠͡ n̶͓̞̘̳͎̟͇͑̔̾͌͝͠ơ̷͉̟͉͎̺͒̆̍͑̓͝͞ b̛̬̹̣̪̮͕̃͛͐̕͢e̵̢̙̰̼̼̹̰̔̀̄̈͐͒̉̉͟͠t̷̙̪̩̟̺̓̽̓͐͒̏̄͆͟͞͡t̶̲̞͇͓̰̓̈́̊͡͠ȩ̧̦̖̯̝̱̍̇̏͂̀̿̚͡r̨̳͎̘̘̂́̋̃͐̇͑̐͛͑ t̨̛̼̮̪̟̙̬̥͖̃̃͐͗̃̚͜͝h̴̡̧͕̬̺͚͋͌̔͊̏͌̕͢a̧̢̙̦̙̬̙̻̓̾͂̅̃̂n̤̳͔̲͙̑͗̐̓̑̽̓̂ t̶̢̯͖͍̙͚̬̫̀̅̃̈́̆̃̄̅͠h̵͔̻̲͉͑̈̽̑͟͠͡ȩ̧̞̺̲͔͈̍̑̒̓͂͡ r̯̫̳̘̠͓̞̳͚͉̂̒̉͗̏̏̅́̂͘ȩ̴̯̟̩̹̪̔̿̒͛͞s̡̧͖̣̘̙̀͗̏̉̔̿̐̈́̕͜͝ͅͅt̷̤͓͉̙̹̰̊̿͐͘͟͝͞,̹̲̗̬̬͚͕̩̏̃̒̆̋̓͑̚͝  
̵̩͍̰͎̼͉̜̳̓̆̍͛̆̄̌̕͞  
Ų̫͙̮̰͍͇̻̉̆̄̽̃͗͆̊͜p̢͖̩̲̫͊̎͒̔͑̔̃ t̨͈̫̫͍͙͍͂́̓̋͝͝h̴͙͔̬̥̝͔̺̯͆̉̋̔̌̓̄̍͘͝ę̢͖̦̝͕̰͖̞͔̈́̓̾̂͘͘͞͞ p̶͍͙̲̗̱̰͇̘̈́͊̑͐͠ā̴͕͇͉̖̤͍̩̲̫͋̎̒̿̽̑̃ẗ̴̜̺̝̱͓̗͓̎̏̾̎ḥ̢̙͚̩̽̉́͗͟͟͞ ţ̢̞̼̠̺̘̭̙̋̆̍̏͜ḧ̶̭̬̬̬̮̙̣̪̈̄̌͌͒̚͜͠ͅę̸̛̞̠͕͔̟͓̮̺̓̃̃͂̐͠ b̰̟͖͙̲̞̬̌͂̃̎͐̚ͅͅo̵͚̠̠̙̜̮͋͂͌̓͘̚͘͘ͅỳ̢̛͕͍̘̯̹̩̊̒͒̎̌̋́̚͜ ĉ̡̨͓̦͍͂̈̆̕͞r̟̰̝̩̈́̅̈̂̐̀̌͘̕͟ȧ̢͙̣̭͙̥̆̉̈́͆ẁ̧̱̤̤̞̗͎͊̉̑͒̆͛͐͡l͓̣͈̝͔̣̍̓̐̍̽̉̚ȇ̸̞̺͎̰͇̣̭̗̙̽̇͗́͡ḑ̷̨̯͇͖̠͇͂̄̿͗̏̅͟ w̸̡̛̲̗̞̘̭̤̐̅̿̍̌̚͞e͎̭͈̼̳̝͚͈͓̐̿̓͆͐̔̚͜͠a̵̲̦͎̟͉̹͐̌͒̾̍̋͑k̷̝̘̗̼̻̻͌̒̂̍̾͡͠ĺ̯̹͕̫̮͈̣̾̈́̍͂̾̆̉̄͢ͅy̸̫̳͕̰͓̖̋̂̓̇̏͗̕͘,̵̢̢͖̗̪̣̰͇͗͐̓̀̀̚͘͝ͅ  
̶̢͇̠͓͙̻̘̫̱͙̏͌̂͒̔̿  
Ŝ̵̩̘̥͓̬̊̉̅̅͌͆͠o̸̠͚̜̠̦͌͆͂̒͡m̵̧̢̛̺̣̤̫̐̔̏̌̕ẻ̱̺̺̻͙͎͊̾̇̆̒̎͛͡ţ̢̦͈̲̣͉͖̓̃̅̆ͅh̵̛̗͇͓̤͔͓͖̰̽̅̋̒͋͛͑̀į͖͇̻͍̺̹̹͐̌͊̂͑̈̕͝n̷̩̖͙͉̳̦͔̓͆̇͜͡͝͡͞g̸̳̬͚̤͓̲͖͎̐̔͒̅͋̆͗̚ ö̸͎̬̦̗̘̙̱̘́̂͐̔̄̂̇̚̚͟͟͝p̴̡̩̳͎̘̞͛̓͛͒̃̊̎̓͘͟͡ͅͅḛ̵͇̠̦̙͔̂͑̏̂͘͟͜͟͞n̵͖͈͖͎͍͎̖̥̋̽̃͌͟͞͠e̴̜̠͗̀̅̿̈͑̚͜͜͜͠d̵̨͙͙̤̦̗̖̐̌͂̔̈͒̿̎̈́͟͢͡ ủ̧̧̪̞̗̙͙̞̉̇̂͒̈̋͂̕͘p̸̨̡̗̗͕̻͎̃̑̆̓ m̴̡̧͙̘̫͈͙̥̩̯͊̔͌̇̌̚y̶̩̗̦̰̗̝̙̌͑̆͜͢͝ͅ d̨̠̹͈͙̠͚̜̻̄̐͊̄̕͝o̥̘̖̬̭͑̈̄͋̇ő̴͙̺̯̞̝̄͌̌̓̏̓͆̕ṛ̶͕͓̜͕͓͌̋̊͗͒s̸̞̼̭͉̣͛̄͟͡͝,̴̡͍̤̬̏̆̅̋̿̋͜  
̳̘̖͖̳͔͈̞͌̾͛̕͡ͅ  
I̶̜̳̠̭̘̠̫͋̉̿̈́͝ l͙̠͖͎̗̪͍͕̽̌̒͊̈͋͆͒͋͝o̢͕̩͖̦͉͋̏͑̓̃͋̆̕n̸̨̫̯̯̳͉̎̂̽̋̾̔́̄͘͝ģ̶͇̩̭̫̺̓͆̊͋̊̐̉̉͜e͚͖̣̬̰̐͗̾̒̏̅̏͞d̷͍̱̻̳̫̣͂͌́̈́͞͠ t̸̥͇̱̰͇̘̍͒̔̎͠o̰̠͎̻͙̬̹͆͑̃͐͒͗̆̍͠ s̢͇̤̪̻̟͔̓͂̓̾̾̑̑̈̔t̵̬͓͈̘͓͐̃̅͒̅̀ô̸͕̺̬̞̹̰͐̋̑́̚͟͢͡p̢̤͍̙̳̪͗̿̒̓̊͆́̐̓͢͟ h̢͙̱͚̬̜̠̼̣̒̽͗̾̃͘̚͞͝i̡̹͍̹̻͖̲̻̝̹̒̍͗̑̚̚͠͠s̶̻͍̣̮͕̠̲̀̽̒̊͘͢͝ b̵̛̺͙͖̹̳̿͋͒̌͌̏l̛̜̠̥̜̤͔͓̯̀͛̊̄̏͟͜͞͞ę̥͓͉̱͔͖̰͛̓̿̽̓͒ͅe̶̹͙͚͙̟̜̎͌̊͑̈́d̡̡̢̥̘͎̭͍́̃̆̔̒̏ï̧̦͈̲̗̞̈́̎͂̋̏̎ͅn̢̞̳̦̒̌͋͋̽͐̐͌͜ḡ̤̝̘̝͎̪̰̲̅̑́̏͟͝ͅ h̴̨̨̞͇̠̲̖̦̙͊̓̃͗̾̓̇͆̕ê̯̻̟̰̬̪̏͌̆͘a̢͔̱̞̬͉͒́͌̅͒̓͝r͙̳͉͈̣̹͕̥̖̓̽͛̂̀́͞͞ț̢͎̬͚̽̿̅̾̎̋͢͠͡,̢͉̬̤̼͒̆͊̈́͛̐  
͍͔̥̺̗͗͂̈̏̑̂̏ͅ  
S̶̡̛̲͇̱̪̠̫̽̉̐̆̎̈́̇̍̐ǫ̨̼̻̣̙͎̓̐͊̐ Ȉ̢̦̹̟͕̜̹̬̖̄͌̉͘͜ h̵̢̧͚͎̝͇̬̠̺̗͂̽̈͗͆̚e̥̘͙̲̜̩̻̹͇̦̿̋̎́̍̃͆̚l̵̡̨̡̧̯͇͙͑̊͋̇̓̀d͓̘͉̲̣̞̗̖̺̙̏̂̿̿̾͛̉ h̸̡͈̳̺̥͎̠̟̀̆̎̏̐̐̓̔͗͢͝į̧̨̡̟̗̦͙͎͎͐̓̈̐̉͋̎͌m̺̭͇̦̥̘̾͑͛̿̆͆͟͢͢͡ ç̳̜̫̙̤̓͗̆̈͑l̵̡̛̳̱̭͖̪̩̼͓̰̄͛͐̃̏͐̚͝͡ǫ̹͍̖̯̻̗̓̏̿͢͞͞͠s̡̡̲̹̯͗̽͂͆͑̾̈ȩ̸̧̱̤͓͎͓̙̀̇͐̃͆̚͘͢͠ͅ i̝̣̠̩̰̾̈̎̐̕̚͡ņ̴̢̖̼̺̤̩̀̽̂̑̊̏̌͞͞ͅ m̴̧̦͈͙̜͎̱̹̼͗̌̓̒̾͐̈͆y̧͉̺̤͚͖̏̀̊̎͛͗̊̄̽ w̶̨̢̘̤͇̻̻̌͐̉̀̽͌ͅa̷͚̣̻̜͚̼̹̻̰̐͊̈́̅͒͂̽͑͝͞ṭ̢̛̻̤̮͎̱̮͓͆̅́̇̆̌̓̚ͅe̴̛̲͚̱̰͓̜̥͐̓̇̃̌͊̚͝r̷̼͚̖̭̫͎̪̊̾͆̎͂̍̅̊̽͜͜͢͠s̴̩̲͉̼̭̾͐̅̑͒͢͠,̵̡̦̞̰̫̝̺̰̮̆̋̈͗͋̚͢͞͝͞  
̷̨̛̙͉̗̫̜͎̮̬̯̓̒̑͗̒͗̕  
T̨̛̛͚̲̤̭̯͆̂̒́̐̕͘͞ḥ̸̱̺̲̭̌́̋̂͛̏͡ơ̷̹̟͖̤͖̱͍̒̃͂͑̍͑̂͘̚s͎̝͖͔͉̭̬͌̊̐̀̂͢͠ͅe̹̯̳͔̞̩̊̆̍̇͌̐ͅ y͖̗͚̮̭̬̮̫̋͊͒̀͗̈́́̓͢͠ͅo̺̗̮̪̤̗̩̳̜̅͑̽̈́̎̽̐̉͢u̶̧̠͖̩̩̖̎̂͘͜͢͡͝͝ͅ t̢̠̖͍̮̞͗̅͆͑͂͡͠r̶̡̧̪̼͉͉̾́̉͒͗̾̈̂͜͢͡͞ͅͅư̰͈͓̜̭̜̄̇̊͘s̨̺̫̣̰̞̬͖͆́͋͒̈̈́̓͟͡t̷̤̞͇̜͇̠͚͍̒̃̃̔͗̚̚͜͜͠ w̵̝͓͇̫̗̱̻̜̯̎͐̈̍i̷̢͕͍̰̔̓̕͜͞͝ľ̢̫̝̞̑̀̐̐̿̅͟ļ̴̝͎̭̠̤̐̋̉̎̍͗̈̀̽͟ h̨̳̭͙͖̑́̽͂̒̀͒͘͘͢ͅu̬͍͖̯̳̳̘͍̭͌̌̾̃͐̌̚r̷̢̼̠̭͈̼̆͑͋̊͛̿̍̈́͢ṯ̷̢̳̼̬̖͕͛͂̆̋͑͋͢ y̸̧͕̤̱̖̍̑̉̋̐͜ͅo̠͚͙̙͉̭̮̿̏̊͗̑͆̐̃͘͡ư̵̝͖̤̖͍͌̌̿̐̔͗̓͠ b̷̧̨̖̺̱͙̗̂̔̏͟͜͠a͓̠̻̞̖͖͓͊̑̊̈̽͜ͅd̶̛̠̱̩̳͌̐̉̋́ͅl̛̝̺̤͉̱̺̰͙̅̄͌̈́̐͋͂͟͟y̩͚̗͉̗͈̘̘̥͑̂̎͑̏̓̃̎͠͠ͅ,̶̢̜̩̩͕͙̮̐̐̐͆͢͟͡  
̵̨̮̻͓̖͙͖̄͋̾̌̓͊̑ͅ  
S͈̳͍̙͕̣͔̰̑̉̌͋͋͛́͘͝ó̸͇̜̗͇̰̩͚́̏̀̽̒͑̈͜͝͞ͅm̵̙̝̮̙̮̒͛͗̐̐̌̾̿͜͡ȅ̴̖̖̻͎̫̟̭̲̜̂̈́̊͠t̶̛͓͇̲͇̟̼͚̦̞͛͂̽̈́͠h̸̖̤̘̹̠̠̦̳̲̱̑̔̈̊͞͝ȋ̺̱̦̜͂̈́̆͋̔͒͋͟͞n̛͚̜̫̰̫̅̈́̊̾̽̊̀ͅg̸̹̣̼̹̼̫̽̂̿̏̽ͅ ņ̡͓͖̖̙̮͑̋̇͆̋̌̄̐ȍ̧̟̟͔̊̓̒̔̃̽͘͜w̸̡̢̼̰̝̫̳̺̫̒̿͛̈̓͘ Ḯ̧̝̞͇̲̜̝̦̙̀̇̄̑͜͞͡͝’̷̢̪̞͇͍͙̘͛̓̌̕͜͞m̛͉̯̹̮̗͇͚̻͈̉̚͝ ş̶̛̤͚͚͇̭͐̆͂̏́̃͘̚u̷̧̨͔̫̰̯̬̥̠̇͂̇̊͒͗̉̚ṙ̳̘̙̣̳͈̓̿͒͗̀̏͞ē̞̘͍͖̱͓̭̍̃̍͋̕͢ y̵̳̲̜̼̬̦̾͛̿͗́̀͌̏ͅō̫̭̬̯͚̪̜̲͙̍̉͛̍͆͘͘̚͞ͅu̡͈̲͈̩̠͌̐̽͑̏̅̾ s̵͍͎̼̜̞͙̘̟̾̆̈̌̌͟ẹ̷̤͙̤̥̲͍̖̈́͐̈͋͑̅e̡̩̙̝̖͉̱͗̽̾̏͋̓̇̈͢͢͜͝,̸̢̡̮͈̞̮̗̟̝͒͗̿̈̏̓̕  
̡̞͓̮̜̮̐̒͂̾͋͒̅̃͘͞ͅ  
S̙̮̯̠̾̈̎̽̚̕͢͝o̵̫̦̭̘͑̐͋̓͌̽͟͡ d̵̦̭͖̮͍̩̄̽̓̑͘͠r̴̡̗̱̫̳̘̄͂̍͛̏̍͝o̺͍̻̝̱͗̌̍͛̋̚͢͞w̫̞̞̤̋̾̒͂̊̚̕͜͜͝n̡̛̮̤̖͓͕̟̱͗̆̑̇̐̐͠͠ͅ y̴̢̨̳̩̜̰͑̽͒̑͌̏̌̍̈́ͅǭ̻̪͔̞̳͍̣̺͗͋̓̈̍͟u͓̖̠̩͌͐͋̎̉͟͠ͅr̵̜̖̺̪͈̜̓̔̾̄͗͟͡͝ ẗ̷̛͕̞̭̪̰̦̬̥́͊̈̍̿̀̈́͟͝ẹ̵͖̯̫͖̊̑̓͝͝a̖̫̩͙̺͛̉̑̓̓̓̒̕r̢̛̘̩̥̯͓̃̅̿̔̏͜͢ş̛̲̱͍͉̝̞̹̿̔̔̅̌͂͗͐͞ͅ i̴̥̤̰͚͇̻̍̈̓͌̚n̗͍͉̬̻̞̹̗̦͉͐͗̿̿̿̒̊͠ m̷̨̝͍̬̱͍͙̬̏̐͑̎͋̃͢ͅe̷̱̰̦̟̖̮͆̎̐̔͂̐͋͘ ṁ̡̭̳̼̳̹̞͈̃͂̒̿̐͠y̷̡͇̟͎͓̬͑̓̌͌̋͘̚͠͝ d̥̻̥̺̱̰͚̬̫͊̇̐͗͂͘͘ḛ̗̹̤̘͆͒̓̅͋̾̎͆̚͟͠a̶̡͕͙̥̪̍̑̈́̌́̕̚͘r͖̟͇̼͙̺̋͛͌̾͂̍̇͟͢,̢̛̗̻̲͎͎̞͎̞̇̑́̉͐͘̚  
̫̺̣̳̼̲͎̳̭̈̓̌͛̀̊̈̇͡͞

 

The voice was what made Ophelia pull over, covering her ears with her hands, screaming at the sky. 

“Stop it! Stop it!” Tears stung at her eyes as she hunched into herself in the driver's seat, trying to find some respite from the noise. The constant noise. The endless sound makes her mind rattle and shake. She can't hold a coherent thought for long before another voice, another sound takes the place of the last. 

“STOP!” 

.  
.  
w̸̧̤͖̻̭̝̘̣̰̰̎̒̋̓̏́̅̿͞h̫͍̻̯͖̝̩̉͗̑̄͑̐̔͞͠y̵̧̩̣̖̮͔̍̉̊̈̈̑̿̄ ḑ̠͈̘̻͚̗͍̐̍̓̃̽̿̍͝i̶̢͇̙̦̙̗͙̥̹̮̒̏̂̽͂̒͐͐͠d̴̢̩̮̲̻̠͙͇̬͙̀̓͒̑́ y̶̯͉͈͍̻̖̿̾͋͂̽̔̔̚͠ō̵̧͎͙̖̰̾̈́̓̉̅́u̺̹̲̩͉͕͕̳̬͈̽̐͌͌͗̏͊̒̅͡ l̻͓͙̻͇̂͆̍̌̐̍e̷͉͔͕̖̺̜̊̿̌͑̆̚̚͜͞͡ͅå̷̟̣̭͙͉̍̇͋̈́̓͞v̢̡̧̛̼̙̜̻̂̐͛͘͠ḛ͙̖̹̝̯̏̾̃̓͋̓̓͡?̷̢͍̮̰̠̹̪͙͗͗̈̎̿̔͋̉͘  
̴̻̠̯̪̐̋̇̋̑̾͠ͅI̶̧̨̛̫̞̝̝͈̫̦͚͗̑̏̓̾̆̆ ǫ̸̛͕͎̘̙̙̌͐̇̇̚͜͟͠n̩̲̤̜̰̙̪͗̈͛̓̃ļ̴̥͙̭͌̂̑͌͘͟ỷ̭̜̼̜̘̗̬̍̈́̇̉̚ w̡̡̡͓̹̪̥̗̿́̉͆͆͟͠a̡̧̛͔̫̹͎͊̓̑̈̕͠ǹ̡̛̝͈̯̘̝̳̀̇̑͂̓̎̋̾ţ̷̹͎̙͎̖̲̂̽̑̈́̏͡ȩ̶̟̺̹͚̔͊̋̾͊̽̐ḍ̵̛̘̜͖̰̹̰̖̓͆͆̽͑̂̚͡͠ t͙͍̭͇̮̊̒̊̓͘͜͠͞͞o̶̱̯̬͎̮͐̂̏̅̋̊̽͝ s̞͕̮͐̀̉̄̋̓͛͒͟͜͠͝ą̛̘̳̞̣͓̋̃͂͗͗̊̐͌̋y̴̤͎̝̺̙̫͈̌̾̉̑̀̚̚ g̶̡̰̪̺̣̮̰̦̰͗͗̓͂͋͗̽̋͘͜ơ̥̱̩̥̼̲͉̖̘͗͌͒̿́͘o̶̹͈̳̊͂̂̒̐̌͑̓͢͝ͅd͎͇̖̼͇̘̰̗̓̎͂͌̈̕͞͡b̘̹͙͇̙̩̜͉̄͗͋͛͘y̵̡̛̳̤̲̐͋̋̓͞ͅẻ̶̢̩̫̦̥̄̆̍͘͡!̧̺̗̳̠̘͕̣̞̓̆̒̎̈͗̿  
̳̥̥͌̋̂̉̃͛͌͜ͅM̗̺͎̣̼̠̩̽̐̊͑͑̕ȯ̬̬͇̹̝̪̠͙̍͌̎̇̃͆̇͘͢m̵͇̳̳͉̬͔̈̏͐̾̎m̡̬̙̞͓̪̈́̀̄͌͗̌y̡͔̝̦͖͇̹̲̗̓̃̾̂̍͟?̨̡̟͎̪̹̙͕͖̆́͑́̍ M̸̧̛͈̰̗̓́̑̓̌̊̚͜͡o̴̺̳̺͚̥̤̻̿̀͗̇̀ͅͅḿ̴̙̠̮̱̤̿̂̇͋͜m̶͙̬͇͔̼̤̞̣̩̰̑̉̅̽̀̓̏́͘y̷̢͓̟̖͖̓̎́͛̋͝?̢͓̘͔̬̈́͛̓̓̉͒̉̓͘͞  
̫͔͈̟͖̹̣͓̤̙͛̄͋̈́̾̚E̷̲͎̻̰͉̫̭̬̾̈́̃̍͊v̴͓̺͍͍̝̥̆̾͑̽̎̋̅͜͝ȩ̖̞̖̘̭͈̔͆̏̚r͇͈̪̼͖͎̈́̓̓̊̐̒̑͟ͅý̶̨̰̲͈̣̪̗̉̓͗̏̓͘͢ẗ̴͔̖͇̦̰͚̝̣̻́̈́̐̂̆̅ͅh̴̠͎͇̦̺̟̗͇̺̄́̈́̄͋̕i̵̢̨̻̜̯͈̼͚̪͗̌̚͘͝n̴̞̳̳͉͉̮̱͓̤̎͆͛̐̄̅̆ͅg̴͉̰̝̲̘̻͚̿͑̃͑̅͐͑̾͒͟ͅ ì̷̡͙͈̜͓͔̫̞̀͗̑͘s̷͚̲̼͙̥̟͇͐̎̅̋̏̈́͝ š̡͕͎̠͎̹͍͙̜̒̽̓̄͘͘͠ͅô̵͉̱̫̮͇̮̈́̂̐͢͜ č̴̫̬̬̘̜͌̌͆̊̽̎̕͜͢o̶͎̦̻͙̗̪̜̩͂͛̔͂͒͐l̨̙̱̼̰͇̥̥̙͛̊̈̅̾͗̑͗͜ḑ͍͚̼͙̣͈̉̂̽̀̍̕͠ n̷̢͖̫̰͚̝̲̖̗͔̽͒̂͗̚͞ỏ̙̙͚̟̬̭͈̟̩̂̈̒̅̕͞w̡̡̰̩̦̱̻̍͊̔̾͌̉̍̊͘͘.̳͇͚͈͙͙̟̿̐̎͋̄̊͐́͐͜  
̧̛͖̪͚̘̙̪̯̊̆̀̅͟͟Ç̵̢̡̧̙̓̈̍̄̒̕o̸̡͉̭͎͉̗̙̣͈̦͆̽̅̓̿̔͒͝͝m̷̨̻̠̹̺̞̙̒̀͒̀̇̄͋͝ȩ̛͇͍̳̪̬̈̏͑͢͢͠ b̴̼̝̱̙̯̠̹͙̋́͗͑͌͟͢a̳̖͍̠͖̣̼̅̿͋̅̓͒̈̅̏̓c̟̙̤̱̹̯̗̘̗̝̊͗̇̂̊͞͡k̞̣̮͇̯̯̝̑̆͗̆̿̓͘͟!̛̜̹̺̫͚̳͂̈̈̊̚  
̸̙̼̮̖̼̊͋͑̽̊͜Y̷̭̪̤̠̭͔̥͂̑͂̌̾̎̈́̋̔͟͝ȏ͈͙̱̟̖͓̬͐͊̽̕͟͠ŭ͎̫̻̟̯̩͉̒̐͆͒͋̉̉͟͠͠ c̸̬̤͇̭͚̊̑̌̾͡ȧ̵̱̱̤͇̎̎̀̊̈́̊̔͟͡͞ṉ̘̰̗̖̽́̇̿̚͟͞ ņ̷͖͎̺̅̄͐́̾͋͑͒͟͞͡e̸̡̱̠͎̯̻̩̥͍̩͌̂̊̕͘v̵͓̰͉̦̖̲͉̿̓̾͛͑̑͝ȩ̸̙̮̫̭̠̈̑͘͡͞r̝͍̙̤̖̹̣͙̱͈̐̆̐̾̕͘͡͡͝ l̤̦͈̪̤̓͘͠͠e̸͚͙̻͎̙͇̥͙̓͊͐͐̀̾̄͜͠a͙̜̬̥̳͈̝̤̔̿̑̈́͂ͅv̷̝̯̩͇̜̦̅͋̎̂͡e̡̲͔̹̙͙̺͋̆͒͒̈́̚͢͝ u̧̫̠̲̲̰͕̭̳̿͑̏̐́͑̍͡s̶̮̳͈̹̦̖̣͂̏͋͐́̒́̚͡!̷͔̺̰̜̜̥̺̱͗̏̈̎͛͆̿̊͝͞ͅ  
.

The woman’s voice was joined by others, all yelling at her, a tangled mess of words, snatches of conversations piling atop one another. Ophelia fumbled with the car’s steering wheel, roughly turning it and forcing herself to drive away.


End file.
